Possession
by demonsshade
Summary: Adrian knows he is no saint. He is a murderer, a blood mage, a near-abomination. He struggles with himself while he tries to do right, his only support being an elf girl with lots to atone for.
1. Rumours of Corruption

**Chapter 1: Rumors of Corruption**

He struggled, sometimes, with his nature.

He struggled with the magic within him, the taint that coursed through his body, the revenge he so deeply sought. He struggled with himself, his own mind. With the demon.

For that was he, an abomination. He still controlled his mind, he still fought the blight, but it was always there, watching him. Whispering quietly, soothingly. He fought back constantly. He knew his duty. He was a Grey Warden, he told himself, not a demon-possessed maleficarum.

And for awhile, it worked. He drew the strength of dragons, the strength of darkspawn, the strength of magic.

But Pride still sought him out.

ooo

"I swear to the Maker if we get out of this alive I'll buy you anything you want when we next visit The Wonders of Thedas." It was stupid to trust Alistair with this, Adrian knew, but what other choice did they have?

They were stuck between a rock and a hard place, like usual, but this time there didn't seem to be a miraculous comeback, or at least a chance to run away. He knew their luck would run out.

"Well, we can't be dying here. That would ruin the story, wouldn't it? The hero's aren't supposed to die. Unless it's at the end. Eww, I hope I don't have a tragic ending."

"You'll be getting one if you don't run faster, Alistair." The two Wardens were running from werewolves, ones still mad at the killing of the Lady of the Forest. "You'd think the elves would help us, considering how we aided them!"

They had run into trouble after securing help from the last of their treaties, or rather, they had always been in trouble, but this was worse. A group of werewolves ambushed them as they were traveling to Denerim to meet up with Arl Eamon, still angry at the death of their leader. The two Wardens had gotten separated from Sten and Morrigan in the fight, but managed to fight back on their own since. Adrian didn't know if his companions still lived.

"Maybe you shouldn't have told them that Swiftrunner begged for mercy, or that you pissed on that sacred tree in the middle of those ruins?"

"Trivialities, Alistair!"

They were shouting as they ran. It was hopeless, though. They had to turn and fight eventually, and Adrian knew Alistair was growing tired from wearing the templar armor while sprinting for his life.

"Not so much, considering how we're now running in fear! Abject terror! Look at us! We're running from werewolves, creatures we've already slaughtered droves of!"

"Some Grey Wardens, eh? Where's the waterfall you mentioned?"

"I'm not sure. I just figured if we followed the river we'd come to it!" Typical Alistair. What if they didn't make it in time?

"Well whoopdeedoo. I guess we're screwed. I'm fighting."

"Wait! Adrian!"

The mage stopped, pivoting on his left foot, bringing his staff around to slam into a werewolf's jaw as it reached for him.

"Maker! I didn't realize it was right behind me!" The werewolf was knocked to the ground, where Adrian held it with a conjured prison. Its jaw was broken in several places from the impact with Adrian's staff, teeth splayed about the ground. It writhed in fury, struggling to reach for the mage. "Piss off." Adrian hissed, and he crushed the thing with one final spell.

"Alistair!" His templar friend was already engaging one of the fell beasts, parrying one while evading another.

"It's times like this I wish the Blight actually made people come together!" The blonde Warden slammed his shield into the closest werewolves chest, following through with a swing that took its head off. "Gotta love Starfang!"

But Adrian knew they'd be overwhelmed soon.

"Into the river!"

"But, with my armor..."

"Do it!"

The Wardens jumped in together, both narrowly avoiding the claws of vengeful werewolves. The current sped them along the way, slamming them into rocks, each other, more rocks, logs and other uncomfortable things. Adrian managed to get am arcane shield around himself and Alistair, but he was unsure how long it would hold.

And then they found the waterfall.

"Oh. There it is." Typical Alistair. He just had to be sarcastic right before they both plummeted to their deaths. Adrian merely sighed as they fell.

ooo

"You're awake." Redhead. Leliana. Explained the annoying, worrisome voice. Still, it comforted the half-conscious Adrian as he lay there in camp, staring at the stars while trying to ignore the pain.

"Where's Alistair? He didn't die yet, did he?" Adrian cracked both his eyes open, pushing away his tiredness.

"Unfortunately, no." Morrigan, it seemed, was none the worse for ware, and if Adrian was seeing correctly, Sten was fine as well. "He was hurt less than you, most likely because of his armor. Still, 'tis surprising he did not drown with all that metal weighing him down. Pity."

"Such a positive person..." Adrian moaned as he sat up. Sten was eying him, scrutinizing, like he used to before Adrian found Asala. Suspicion and... did Adrian see fear? Why?

"How did you survive that fall?" Sten moved forward, grabbing him by the neck of his cloth shirt. Adrian gasped as his wounds reopened, and struggled hopelessly against the Qunari's grasp. Any human, even one who stayed in shape due to constant fighting and near-death experiences, was no match for the Sten.

"How the hell should I know? I got lucky, maybe?" Adrian stared into Sten's eyes, hiding the faint sense of urgency. Despite being grabbed quite often by the brute, he knew, or at least hoped, that the Qunari would not hurt him.

"I do not like being lied to, Kadan. No man could have survived your injuries. You shouldn't have awoken."

"Thanks for the support. I didn't die like I should have. That happens often, it seems. You remember the fight with the High Dragon, right? The beastie swallowed me and I still got out, though I admit I was terrified as I was blasting away with spells from inside its stomach."

"Vashedan." Sten let go, and retreated further away. Adrian was always confused about the mindset of the man, though he trusted the Qunari with his life. Wait. He trusted a man who he knew barely anything about with his life? Oh well. Such is desperation.

Adrian dismissed the rest of the concerned party members quickly. He knew Morrigan was nervous regarding his injuries, but she would never admit it. She scoffed when he brought it up while she was re-bandaging his wounds, after the rest had left.

"'Tis untrue. You are simply necessary. For you to die would be...inconvenient." Morrigan focused on the bandages and, as if to emphasize her point of not caring about him, "accidentally" reopened one of the more minor, but still very painful, wounds.

"You're a liar and we both know it, Morrigan." Adrian liked playing with her. As much as she denied being human, he knew she had some empathy within her. Or at least he hoped she did.

"Regardless, would you mind telling me what you didn't tell the Qunari? Such a secret is so...tantalizing."

"There is no secret. I survived by luck, and luck alone. Like usual." Adrian knew where this was going. Morrigan wanted answers too. She probably tended Adrian's wounds. If she noticed the rate at which he was healing, then...

"Very well. I will not press. What matters is that you live, more than anything. No matter what means you employ to achieve this, I do not care." Morrigan was terse, as usual. She indifferently got up and headed back to her tent, leaving Adrian alone, still sitting up.

The fight was bad, Adrian knew. He wasn't sure what happened after he tumbled down the waterfall. He knew why he survived, though. It wasn't luck.

It never was.

ooo

She lay there, in the darkness.

What were her crimes? Why the death? Her friends were raped, her spouse murdered, yet she lay here, tortured for her "crimes". What crime? Righteous retribution? Yet Vaughan was alive. If only she could break free...

Cyrion always told his daughter that she had iron will, but the iron will rust and break faced with such hopelessness.

Prison. Torture. Pain. Darkness. Months pass and she knows of nothing outside.

But she was just an elf chained to a back wall in the Arl of Denerim's prison.

Iron will does little in the face of this travesty. It does not feed the belly, or inspire the soul with foolhardy determination.

It will not keep her alive forever.

ooo

"Ah, Denerim. Pretty as a painting." Sarcasm, definitely. The city looked terrible, and that was a compliment if you knew what it looked like. Beggars and lepers littered the streets, open wounds festering in the sunlight, the buildings run down, the people frightened. The Blight was coming, and the Landsmeet was to be called in a few day's time. They were nervous, and rightfully so, what with the lords and lordlings fighting over a distant throne, a civil war they never wanted. All they desired was the peace they knew when Cailan was alive.

"Have I heard you say that before? Or am I simply exasperated by how snarky you can be?" Adrian nudged Alistair.

"Little of both, perhaps. Hey! Remember your promise?"

"What promise?"

"About the Wonders of Thedas? Come on, it's right around the corner here..."

"You sir!" Not Alistair. A different voice, from a blonde knight some distance away. Adrian sighed. He had hoped they wouldn't be approached. They had to get to Eamon's estate quietly, else they risked drawing too much attention to themselves. They stood out already as it was. The knight spoke again as he grew close.

"The name is Ser Landry. I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Shoot?"

"It means speak, Ser Knight. The name's Adrian. I'm a traveler from...Redcliffe."

"Redcliffe? My condolences on what happened to your village. I heard the undead horde killed most of the townsfolk. Were you not there?"

Adrian winced. He still regretted not helping the townspeople, but he had to get to Orzammar quickly. He just didn't have time. Adrian didn't even know if Alistair had forgiven him yet.

"I was not... not until later..." Adrian paused, looking away. "Anyways, your question?"

"Ah, yes. I was wondering if you knew anything about the Grey Warden's rumoured to have arrived in Denerim. Perhaps you saw them, or heard something in passing?"

Great. Adrian thought. Just the thing to make his day better.

"Uh, yeah. There's a blonde one. Real ugly fellow, with a prissy attitude and effeminate features." Adrian heard Alistair mumble something about injustices of being a follower behind his back. "The other is a quite striking young lad, a mage."

"My thanks, friend. Do you have any information on where they might be?"

"Not here. I last heard they were heading towards the palace. I think they're going after Loghain! Such monsters, fighting against our hero like that."

"Really! I must be off to my lord's side, then. I cannot thank you enough for the information." Ser Landry grasped Adrian's hand, shook it, and departed swiftly.

"Clever. Are we to lie to everyone we meet, then?" Morrigan just had to comment on everything.

"Aww, does the evil, crazy woman not like lying? Pity."

"I do not believe I am the only evil, crazy one here." Adrian looked at Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan. She obviously meant Adrian, of course...but how...?

"Opinions are like assholes, Morrigan. Everyone has one." Adrian trudged off, surprising the other three. He had felt out of it since his plummet from the waterfall, but there was nothing he could do about it. There was no time to rest. The Landsmeet would be called soon.

"Ah! The savior of my wife and son, welcome!" Arl Eamon greeted them at the door to his estate. Unusual, considering his status. Adrian just wished the Arl wouldn't call him savior, considering past events, but there was nothing he could do about that. "Two important things happened while you weren't here. First, Loghain showed himself."

"What?" The queen piece had moved too soon. Was Loghain planning something? "What did he do? What did he say?"

"He insinuated that I was a threat, and I imagine he will be making moves against us soon. You'd best be on your guard moving about the city." Arl Eamon paused, sighing. "The second event is much more...disturbing."

"It seems I only get bad news these days. No king in Orzammar, tower being taken over by demons, werewolves wreaking havoc...

"The queen is being held hostage. Her handmaiden requested we help her."

"Shit."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Alistair stepped forward. "She could be a powerful ally in the Landsmeet, couldn't she? We should rescue her."

"Alistair is right. She would be useful, though I do not know if we can trust them." Arl Eamon looked surprised. No big deal, there. Alistair generally wasn't one to think ahead like that.

"You want me to rescue her anyway?" Adrian sighed. Just once he'd like a break. Maker...

"Of course. I'll take you to Erlina. She's upstairs, in my room."

"Oh, no point taking a rest, then. Grey Warden, at your command! Overwork me to your heart's content! Please." Adrian bemoaned his fate as he was led away. "Next you'll be asking me to free some oppressed people or something, I swear."

ooo

"She still conscious? After that beatin' you gave her, I'd be surprised if she was." Disgusting shems. Always they were like this, ogling her, touching her, but she always kept them away somehow. Eventually, she knew she wouldn't even have the strength to resist anymore. How long had she been down here? She lost count, and soon stopped caring, after six months. The days and nights were blended together down here in the dark. The alienage was a distant dream, now. Vaughan but an unpleasant memory. Soris... and Shianni. She failed them. She failed them all, Valendrian, her father, everyone.

"I want to get rough wit' 'er too. She's a pretty 'lil thing ain't she? Her beauty ain't disappeared since she got here all 'dem months ago."

"No guard's crazy enough to go that far wit' her. She snapped Alec's neck, remember?"

"'Dat was a long time ago. Months of torture have a way of makin' people more pliable, see?" The guard on the left edged close. His words rang true, though. She had no strength left.

The arrow sprouted from his neck, then. So suddenly it happened that the elf thought it was simply a trick of the light. She got those sometimes. When the blood sprayed on her, she knew better. What was going on? The other guard shouted something before another arrow found his neck, silencing him forever.

"Hey! Adrian, there's someone here!" It was a woman's voice. The elf could barely make her out from where she was chained to a wall, but she could see the fiery red hair and the bow in her hand.

"A girl!" A shem entered. Black hair, a tattoo over one eye. He moved as if he was in a hurry, but a strange, almost playful, light danced in his facial expressions. He seemed more real to her than any of the other shems, those demons that plagued her constantly. Still, he was human.

Humans deserved to die.

"Are you hurt?" He had a staff in his hand. A mage, then? Great. A shem, and a mage on top of that. Just the prefect person to find her in a prison. Still, maybe she could get free...?

"I...uh..."

"She looks like she's been beaten. Stay still, girl. I have some healing magics I can use."

As the mage twirled his staff once, the door to her prison ripped off its hinges and deposited itself against a far wall. Another twirl released her from her wall shackles. The girl dropped on her legs, but they collapsed beneath her, unused to walking as they were.

The mage moved over quickly, propping her up.

"What's your name?"

"Rayne. Rayne Tabris. Daughter of Cyrion Tabris." It felt alien to speak to someone who wasn't trying to muster the courage to violate her.

"Does it hurt anywhere? Leliana, watch the corridor! Where's Alistair and Sten? Did they chase after the mage?"

"Ahh! Choose one question, Adrian, and ask it, not so many!" The red head, Rayne was assuming was named Leliana, scurried off with bow in hand.

"My leg...I can't feel it. I don't think I'm hurt too bad elsewhere, though."

The mage, Adrian, kissed his amulet and pressed it against her leg, calmly whispering under his breath. She could feel blood pumping into her leg again as healing energy danced off his hand and into her limb. A massive relief washed over her, she had thought for sure the leg may have to come off. Then again, it wouldn't have mattered anyway if no one had found her. Rayne may hate shems, but she knew not to be ungrateful.

Rayne tried to stand, leaning against the wall for support. It had been so long since she last stood on the power of her feet alone. It hurt, but the pain was good. Pain meant she was alive. She would survive after all, somehow, thanks to this mage.

Wait. Why was she feeling appreciation towards some worthless shem?

"Are you all right, Rayne?" The mage was looking at her. She could see concern when Adrian looked at her. She was about to speak, but his eyes stopped her cold.

They were red as blood.

Her stomach clenched, she went cold and her breath caught. Her fingers went numb again, and fear gripped her chest. What manner of trickery was this? Who was this mage?

Why did he save her?

ooo

"Maker! Stop that...that brute of yours from doing that! It's barbaric!"

"Sten, he's dead." Alistair rolled his eyes. Typical nobles and their aversions to blood. He may be the heir, but Alistair would rather eat Morrigan's cooking than be squeamish. Alistair had to admit Sten was being excessive, however.

"Alistair, I have seen mages come back from the dead before. It is not fun."

"That's no excuse to stab him so many times. Maker, he's tapioca now."

"Wasn't he the one in control of Anora's barrier? The more dead the better."

"Simply being dead is fine enough for me, thank you very much. No need to go all stabby-mc-stab-kill on me, now."

"We should find Adrian. He will want to know where we went. And if I choose to mutilate a mage, I shall do so."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Ah. Expounding on your personal feelings as always, Sten."

"I take pride in my ability to entertain."

"Is that a joke? Sarcasm? Some sort of humanity below that cold, dark exterior?"

"No."

"Pity."

"Why do I have two fools as my saviors...?" Alistair heard Vaughan sigh. He and Sten had found him chained up deeper inside, and after telling them he was a noble, they decided to let him come with them. They both regretted it, considering he wouldn't stop complaining.

Sten was quickly growing tired of it, exemplified by how he grabbed Vaughan's neck and pressed him against a wall. "Would you rather you be stuck in there, or crushed against this wall?"

"You wouldn't dare. I'm Arl Urien's son. I'm important!" Sten merely growled.

"Oh, let him go. We both decided we'd let Adrian deal with it, like always. So can you refrain from killing him?"

"Very well." Sten let go. Vaughan stumbled as he caught himself.

The lordling still complained.

ooo

"Maker! Who's that!" Rayne heard Leliana cry out in surprise. Adrian turned immediately from focusing on the gash on Rayne's arm, which was keeping her from putting weight on that limb.

"Says he's a noble." She could faintly hear some other man's voice. Light, more carefree than she was used to. Similar to the mage's, except without the chilling feeling she got when she heard Adrian's voice. And his eyes...they seemed to peer into her soul. What was he? She'd never met a shem like Adrian before, though it may just be a general trait of mages. She'd never met a mage before.

But then _he_ walked into the door.

The object of her hatred, the image of her oppression, the reason for her imprisonment, the betrayer, murderer of her would-be husband... the one who raped Shianni.

Vaughan.

Rayne stood slowly, keeping in the shadows, to make sure he didn't see her. Adrian had since stood and made his way over to the disgusting noble. Why were they together? Were they cooperating?

It didn't matter. Her revenge was at hand.

Vaughan will die.


	2. Consequences

**Chapter 2: Consequences**

The blade sprouted from Vaughan's chest too quickly for Adrian to react. Blood spurted, Vaughan's face contorted in pain. Adrian recognized that look, sheer agony coupled with the certainty of a demise. The noble screamed, but was soon silenced by a second blade running across his throat, brutally slashing his jugular.

Alistair and Leliana gawked, but did nothing. Sten was the first to move, knocking Vaughan away, he would die anyways, and elbowing the murderer in her face. Adrian didn't realize it was Rayne until after Sten was choking her.

"L-Let her down!" Adrian stammered. He certainly wasn't expecting the elf he saved to murder the nobleman. He wanted to know why, and a dead elf tells no tales.

Sten complied, albeit slowly, loosening his death grip and eventually letting Rayne fall, where she lay gasping for breath. Her gaze was turned towards the bloody corpse of the former noble, his lifeblood flowing across the stone floor, pooling together at Adrian's feet. She knew where to kill a man, he would give her that.

She could fight. But why? Alienage elves weren't allowed to have weapons, or train in the use of them. Adrian's curiosity was now piqued, and he needed answers. He crouched, eying Rayne.

"Does it hurt?" He scrutinized the bruises Sten had caused. Her nose was broken, obviously, but that could be mended later. She had no major ailments, so no need for medical intervention just then.

"That's the first thing you ask! Maker, she just murdered that man!" Leliana pointed at the blood-ridden corpse, exasperated. Chantry sisters have a thing for not looking beyond the obvious circumstances, it seems.

"Obviously, but now is not the time to deal with this. Rayne, you will come with us. We need to escape, and soon. I will not turn you over to the authorities, however, as long as you comply." Adrian knew the shouting and fighting would draw attention, and dealing with the elf girl now would solve nothing.

But then he felt something. A gnawing feeling, just at the edge of his mind. He was sensing someone approach from a distance away. Someone...powerful.

"We have to go. We have what we've come for and..." The rest of his followers looked at him in confusion. "I fear we've been discovered."

The elf girl looked up at Adrian, confusion evident. She said nothing, however, as the five of them quickly moved through the prison corridor, trusting in Adrian's judgement. Adrian paid close attention to his surroundings as they ran, scrutinizing every corner, every dead man, to ensure they would not be trapped by whoever, whatever, was coming for them. If it was no mere human, then it would be best to be prepared.

They climbed the stairway quickly and quietly, hoping to avoid any remaining guards in the area. Adrian noticed he sensed no intention of escaping from Rayne. Odd, but that could quickly change.

Adrian stopped at Arl Howe's bedroom, just above where they had found Riordan. The Arl was still pinned against the wall with his own sword, head hanging to the side, with the tongue lolling about. Adrian breathed a sigh of relief, as nothing in the room was disturbed from how they had left it. That was good, as that meant nobody had found the dead man in their foray into the dungeons, searching for the mage to disable the barrier on Anora's door. Adrian knew this area wasn't well patrolled. They had a clear shot to Anora, and then, hopefully, they could escape out the front door. Provided their disguises still worked, of course.

Nobody saw the five of them as they made their way through the estate. Oddly enough, there weren't even any guards about. Adrian was simply happy that he got to Anora without incident. Erlina was waiting outside the door of the Queen's room, talking in low voices with Anora.

"Erlina, we've returned." The elf maid jumped at Adrian's voice, turning sharply as he approached. "The mage has been dead for awhile now, so the door can be opened."

"Th-there is no key, Warden." Nervousness? Adrian sighed. Everyone was nervous around a mage these days. Damned chantry and their fear mongering.

"Stand aside." Adrian rotated his staff around the back of his hand quickly, gripping it after a single spin and thudding it into the ground. The hinges of the door broke off, allowing the door to put its full weight against the ground. Gravity won over eventually, and it start to fall forward. Adrian neatly pulled Erlina out of the way as the large barrier fell forward, slamming into the ground.

"Likely everyone in the estate heard that." The queen stepped out, dressed head to toe in a guard uniform. Adrian didn't know where she got it, but he knew better than to waste time by asking.

"Doesn't matter. We need to get out of here. Now." Adrian felt the presence. It was drawing nearer. "Hurry."

Anora caught the urgency in Adrian's voice, and said nothing as she hurried Erlina forward. The band of now seven people quickly shuffled to the main door. They were almost out, almost free. Five yards. Three. One. Adrian's hand was on the door, but it opened out unexpectedly, nearly causing him to fall.

Standing in the doorway was Ser Cauthrien with a dozen soldiers backing her. Her initial surprise was brief, and a hostile expression replaced it quickly.

"You!" She drew her great sword, pointing it toward Adrian, who had retreated a few steps.

"Me?" Adrian knew the presence he had felt was this woman, a skilled warrior and strong of will, strong enough for Adrian to notice, at least. Just his luck. Why did he have to always run into the worst trouble he found? Was Adrian simply prone to attracting unsavory circumstances, or were unsavory circumstances prone to having Adrian involve himself?

"Murderer! I am Ser Cauthrien, knight in service to..."

"I know that already." Adrian was slowly backing up. He kept a hand on his staff, as a precaution. If she was already calling him a murderer, Adrian knew this would not end well.

"Silence! You are under arrest for the most heinous homicide of the esteemed Arl Rendon Howe. If you resist you shall be slain. Surrender your weapons now and come with me."

By this time, Adrian had backed closer to the far doorway. The soldiers filled the room in front of him, forming a semicircle around the group. Ser Cauthrien was in the center, a mage behind her.

12 soldiers, a mage and a highly renowned fighter versus two Grey Wardens, Sten, Leliana, a useless elf maid, the queen and an unarmed (yet still apparently dangerous) elf.

That's it! The queen!

"Arl Howe brought his fate upon himself. He kidnapped your queen with the intent of murdering her in secret. I was sent here to rescue her!" Adrian knew it was foolish to reveal the queen's presence, but he was not eager to engage so many enemies.

"The queen? You lie, mage. You know your kind are not to be trusted, yet you still try to fool me? Quit testing my patience." Ser Cauthrien stepped forward, greatsword held out in front of her, menacing Adrian back.

"Really? I'm a liar? Anora, tell her." A desperate move, but necessary. Hopefully the queen will see that...

"Ser Cauthrien! Thank goodness you're here! These brigands tried to kidnap me!"

"You double-crossing bitch!" Rayne spurted out, baring her teeth. Adrian couldn't help but feel the same way.

"Anora!" Cauthrien's eyes went wide. "Kidnapping the queen..." Ser Cauthrien shook her head in disgust. Adrian's stomach clenched. "That is worthy only of death."

Another fight. Shit. Death only seemed to follow Adrian ever since he left the Tower of Magi. The tragedy at Ostagar, the destruction of Lothering, Adrian's abandonment of Bann Teagan and Redcliffe. The great smith Carridin was struck down at his hand, soon followed by the execution of Lord Pyral Harrowmont, done by Adrian himself. The massacre of the werewolves and their leader were also perpetrated by the mage.

Adrian knew fourteen people more added to the list of the dead would not make a difference. Their families would mourn, just as they do for all the rest of those Adrian killed, and the Grey Warden mage would live on.

Life just isn't fair.

Ser Cauthrien moved first, likely hoping to mortally would Adrian before he had a chance to cast a spell. Adrian almost felt complimented by that. He was dangerous! Of course, that meant nothing if he didn't manage to stay alive.

Adrian parried the blow with his staff. A mistake, he knew, as he heard the wood crack. Best not to do that again. He backed up, allowing Sten to redirect Ser Cauthrien's attention. Anora had disappeared, as had Erlina. Cowards. Rayne, however, had already taken a sword from an enemy soldier felled by one of Leliana's arrows. She fought well and easily kept back two guards.

They would be overwhelmed if Adrian did not act soon, he knew. The mage was the first threat, but the crossbowmen would cause great harm if they went unchecked.

Alistair had made a beeline to the mage, somehow evading the enemy line and Ser Cauthrien. She was still engaged with the Sten, and was holding him back, despite his skill. The mage fell quickly, not realizing Alistair's templar abilities and how they cut through his magical shields, right through his robes and into his stomach.

Adrian fell into spell casting. He focused his mind on the earth, felt its stability beneath him. Now, he imagined it as liquid, shaking and twisting, collapsing buildings and crushing people. His will enforced that image upon reality as he cast the spell. The earth shook violently, knocking Ser Cauthrien off her feet. Two soldiers were crushed by a falling piece of the roof, while another was pinned beneath a fallen beam.

"Get outside!" Adrian shouted as another three soldiers were crushed. The same piece also nipped Rayne, throwing her to the floor. He heard the pop as her shoulder dislocated. Cursing, Adrian rushed back towards her.

The fight had devolved into chaos by then. The Sten seemed unworried, striking down enemy soldiers as they ran outside. Leliana had leapt through a stained glass window, somehow managing to get two arrows off at the enemy before she disappeared from view. Alistair, never the coward, went back for Adrian, who was struggling to free Rayne.

"Leave her! She's just a murderer, anyways!" Alistair shouted. Rayne glared up at him, but the pain was too much for her to maintain it for long.

"Since when do you advocate the deaths of others? Damn it, Alistair, help me!" Adrian would not abandon her. He told himself it was only for answers, but there was something more about her. No time to think of that, however. His own spell would be the death of him if he lingered inside the collapsing building too long.

Alistair probably grumbled, but Adrian didn't hear it for all the booming and shrieking. The earthquake he summoned was worse than he thought, and somehow he could tell the entire estate was crumbling apart. Why? He had never lost control of a spell like this before.

Too many thoughts swirled in his head as he picked up Rayne, who had succumbed to the pain, head hanging from her unconsciousness. Alistair loyally stayed by his side, fending off one enemy soldier who was too dumb to flee. Ser Cauthrien was still on the ground, probably unconscious. A slight bit of blood marred her face as she lay there, vulnerable, helpless. She would die if she was left unattended yet Adrian felt no compulsion to help her.

They exited the building moments before it finally fell the pieces. Walls tore asunder, support beams falling, the roof caving in. Likely any and all people in the estate were dead, dying or buried now. Adrian used to feel remorse for the unnecessary deaths of others, but the pain of it had mostly faded away now. He had done what was necessary. He had done what was right. The destruction was needed, Adrian told himself. The dead servants, innocent guards, prisoners left behind in the dungeons. None of them deserved the fate Adrian made for them, but it had to happen.

For Adrian knew he would be dead if he did not do it.

"Maker...the entire estate is...flattened." Leliana commented as the shaking subsided. Her bow was limp in her hands, dust clung to her hair, a slight cut was evident on her cheek, but she was none the worse for wear from the experience.

"Kadan. Was this necessary?" Sten's face was blank, but Adrian knew the Qunari was unsettled.

Adrian shifted Rayne's weight nervously. What could he say? That he didn't mean to do this much? That he lost control of his own magic, something completely unheard of before? His control was growing weaker, and he knew it. It seemed like it was only a matter of time.

"We were outmatched. I saw no way of us getting out alive. Besides, it's fun to tear buildings down." Adrian looked back at the estate, hoping Anora and Erlina hadn't still been inside. "Did any of you see the queen escape?"

"Yeah, I did. They both got around Ser Cauthrien in the beginning of the fight. I think they're heading to Arl Eamon. They have no allies anywhere else in the city." Alistair was shaken too, but considerably less so that the other two. He had fought with Alistair many times before, and knew this destruction was within Adrian's power. Not to say Alistair was completely alright, though. The right pauldron of his armor had been crushed by a falling beam, and that arm was hanging limp, blood dripping from his fingers. Adrian hoped the wound wasn't too serious.

"Lets hurry back before the guard arrives." Adrian shook his head as he walked away, still carrying Rayne. He tried to shake his confused thoughts away, to no avail.

It was breaking free.

ooo

Pain. Blood. Suffering.

She saw the face of Shianni as she turned away, leaving the girl to her fate. She saw the face of Nelaros as the guard's blade slashed through his tunic, letting him bleed out across the floor. She saw the face of Soris, confused and horrified, as he was led away to be executed.

It almost seemed ironic that Soris was killed under the vhenadahl, the tree of his people. Rayne was merely feet away, watching as the axe came down. Shianni didn't cry. She just stared. Rayne almost thought there was disappointment in her cousin's eyes when it was announced Rayne was to be imprisoned, not executed.

Not surprising. Rayne abandoned her. Left her to a night of torture and pain, all for a mere forty sovereigns.

Soris was executed because of the stupid decisions of a desperate elven woman. Despite all the death she saw, despite the rape of her friend and cousin, despite the brutality she herself suffered... she still made the deal.

Nelaros died because of her. He tried to save her, but was cut down. He was never aware of the side-deal Rayne made with Vaughan. Perhaps it was better that he died in ignorance, not knowing his would-be wife was a greedy traitor, one who brought shame to herself by turning her back on everything she had known.

All for money.

ooo

Her eyelashes fluttered once, just once, before her eyes darted open. A second later she had rolled off the bed, grabbed a candle and flung it at him. A second after that Adrian had her in a crushing prison and struggled to put out the fire in his robes.

Women. Baffling.

Adrian didn't speak until the flames had been quenched. When he did, however, he tried not to let his irritation come through in his voice. This is what he gets for saving the girl's life? A singed robe? And one of his favourites too!

"Nice to see you're awake, madam." He didn't intend for there to be sarcasm, but the words rolled out like that anyways. Oh well. He released the girl from the prison, letting her fall to the ground, gasping for breath. "My apologies. I had not expected...that."

"I thought you were the other Warden." Barely a mumble. The elf hadn't yet caught her breath, still gasping for air. Adrian winced, hoping he didn't accidentally hurt her. His magic wasn't exactly stable since the events at Arl Howe's estate a few days prior. "I...I thought he was going to kill me, back at the estate, I mean."

"Alistair? Can't harm a fly, I think. Unless it's a darkspawn fly. If it was, if there are such creatures, then he'd swat it with anything possible. Wood, people, horses...anything to kill it." Adrian smiled. "He hates the blighted darkspawn. With good reason."

"You speak oddly for a human." She had stopped gasping, now choosing to stare at him intently. Her gaze wasn't friendly, but not exactly hostile, either. Was it blank? No. There was some emotion there. But what?

"Oddly? How so?" Who was this girl? She could fight, that was damnably evident from the events at the estate, but she also responded to Anora's treachery by calling her a double-crossing bitch. Why? Adrian was simply Rayne's rescuer, she didn't sign on to his group by default simply because of that. He had to know more.

"You aren't stupid." That much was obvious. Wait, what does that really mean? Was she implying that Adrian was exceptional, a towering figure of intellect among his peers, or merely that he was average, and the rest of humanity filled with hopeless dimwits? "And you don't sound like them, either."

"I'm a mage, first off. I was raised in the Circle of Magi."

"That explains it then." Explains what? Is she making some sort of judgment about him?

"Explains my way of speaking, then?"

"No. Your eyes." His eyes? Strange.

"Huh?" A truthfully eloquent response on his part. Adrian was baffled. They're just eyes.

"They're red. It's because you're a mage." How simple.

"No. Mages have normal eyes, like any other human, elf, whatever. I became this way when I... I mean, I was born with them." Damn. The truth almost slipped out. Adrian had to watch what he said.

"Why?" What an odd question. How does one explain circumstances of birth?

"No clue." Adrian paused. Rayne was quite dirty, he noticed now that she was moving about. When was the last time she had a bath? Obviously not for the duration of her stay in prison, yet she seemed undisturbed by her inordinate level of cleanliness (or lack thereof).

Whilst Adrian wondered this, she had started messing with a small, rainbow shaped bauble that had movable rings. Like a child, it seemed. Of course, she had probably never seen the inside of a noble's house or at least one that wasn't filled with people trying to hurt her. "I mended most of your wounds while you were sleeping, Rayne. I..."

"Don't call me that. It's weird."

"Your name?"

"Shem's don't call me by name, and I don't to them. That's how it is."

"No it's not." Adrian would not suffer such nonsense. He could call her by her name if he wanted to. His response seemed to take her by surprise, however. She stared at him intently as he sat in an antique chair close to the doorway, examining, scrutinizing. Why? Why was she so cautious, so supicious? "How long were you in that prison?"

"I don't know. I lost count after six months." Not surprising, then. Her time in the dungeon may have unhinged her. No matter, then. He'll just have to wait awhile for her to adjust to the outdoors again.

"Why were you there? Cut a purse?" Seemed likely to Adrian, if she lived in the Alienage.

"Do not assume I am a pickpocket simply because I am an elf!" Anger. Rayne had raised her voice, her posture changed from curiosity to outrage. "My people are proud! They would never accept it if one of their own resorted to petty thievery... Or at least they used to be that way." Her voice trailed off. Adrian was surprised, of course, but there seemed to be something deeper than mere misunderstanding.

She was hiding something.

He didn't ask, however. Adrian simply watched as she walked out of the room, throwing the rainbow bauble at him, the pretty little thing striking his jaw.

Wiping the blood off his jaw with his hand, he pondered what just happened as he absentmindedly licked the blood.

He shouldn't pry. Adrian was hiding something much, much worse.

ooo

"I can't help but imagine Anora's more trouble than she's worth, my lord." Arl Eamon and the mage sat in the elegant lounge room near the gardens. It had been a few days since the events at Arl Howe's, but Anora was still somewhat alien about events surrounding the fight with Ser Cauthrien. It aroused great anger in Adrian when he thought of what happened, with her betraying them and running off, only to claw her way back onto Arl Eamon's lap right after. Did she not see what was at stake? Was she trying to get them killed? Adrian had to divine a meaning to the queen's actions."Considering what happened at Howe's..."

"Considering what you said to the Queen, you should be lucky you're alive." Arl Eamon was referring to when Adrian and his troupe arrived at Eamon's estate, haggard, angry, desperate, tired, hungry and volatile. They had ran from legions of guardsmen, narrowly avoiding death at every turn. To Adrian, he had expected a final chance for a well deserved rest, for both himself and the oblivious elf girl in his arms, but Anora had arrived first, only to criticize Adrian for what he said.

"Okay, so I threatened her life. 'Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you now.' I said, With all due respect, my lord, she's a bitch, and her decision nearly cost me and my friends our lives."

"I understand, and trust me when I say that I side with you, not her, in this issue. However, we need her on our side for the Landsmeet. Without her vote we may as well be fighting blind."

"I know a couple of old, blind men who can beat me in a fight."

"You understand what I mean though, Adrian." Arl Eamon sighed. "She's very important and she knows it. You're also of low birth and, despite you being a Grey Warden, she views you as her lesser. You will not prove her otherwise if you threaten her like that."

"Regardless, Loghain should be our focus here, not a traitor queen. At least we're deposing her, right?" Adrian smiled at that. Arl Eamon was smart politically, and Adrian trusted the man knew what he was doing.

"Now, to business." Arl Eamon paused, looking somewhat worried. "Anora tells us that there is unrest in the elven alienage. If we find the source, some sort of lead that incriminates Loghain, perhaps we'll fare a better chance at the Landsmeet. Take the elven girl with you. She may be able to help."

"Who says we'll find anything?"

"No one. We'll have to hope. And pray."

"Pray if you wish, Arl Eamon." Adrian sighed, standing. He had work to do now. Rayne would be useful for this. "Pray and pray and it will do nothing, I fear. Now is the time for action. Not words spoken to an absentee god."

Adrian knew much of desperation and the action because of it. He knew very well. Loghain had done something to the alienage, and he had to find out what.

There was work to be done yet.


	3. Traitor

**Chapter Three: Traitor**

"Ah, Zevran!" Rayne tensed. Zevran was a member of the small group Adrian was taking to the Alienage and the voice was not one she recognized. Probably trouble. Very well. She was ready.

The Grey Warden and his entourage had been walking atop the roofs of Denerim in an attempt to get to the Alienage without interruption, so desperate as they were to not be noticed, they were even doing it at night. The voice came from atop a set of stairs leading onto the roof ahead of them, piercing the silence.

"And the Grey Warden, too! When I heard you had somehow bound Zevran into service to you, I just had to see it to believe it!" Moonlight revealed the foreign-looking man who had spoke, peering down at Adrian and Zevran, who were staring back up at him. Alistair merely stood and looked dumb, as always. Rayne was more interested in the hidden men, waiting behind barrels or doors, and one was even stuck in a tree that snaked over the edge of the roof. If Adrian had taken notice of the hidden men he did not show it on his face. "Well, looks like the rumors were true. Zevran's started licking the feet of the Warden just to stay alive. I would say it's pathetic, if I didn't know you didn't have a choice, Zev."

"Taliesin. You came all the way from Antiva just for me? I'm flattered." Zevran had a smirk on his face, appearing amused at the spectacle. The crow elf didn't seem to notice any of the hiding assassins either.

"Come with me, Zev. We'll tell them you got confused, or that you simply were waiting to back stab the Wardens and finish the job in a cleaner fashion. They'll believe us."

"That just sounds wonderful. And Zevran can be returned to his happy life in the Crows, completely content and satisfied with his life."Adrian feigned ecstasy, raising his hands for added effect as he spoke. "Everyone wins. Except me, of course."

Alarm bells went off in Rayne's head. She backed away from Zevran slightly, putting her hands on the daggers Adrian gave her. If the fight came to pass, she'd need the Thorns of the Dead Gods Adrian gave her to see her through it.

"Zevran, help me with this and we'll return to Antiva together. Everyone makes mistakes. I'm sure the top brass will understand." Taliesin's poise seductive, his voice velvet with promise. Rayne knew his type, lecherous and parasitic, a kind of person to never be trusted. "It'll all be dealt with."

"Of course, I'd need to be dead first." Adrian's tone was dry, his red eyes dull, darting back and forth from Zevran to Taliesin.

"Yes. You would need to be dead first." Zevran smiled crookedly, cocking his head towards Adrian and drawing his two swords. Adrian backed away, but turned as he noticed an assassin appearing from behind a cart nearby. They were surrounded. "Let us not see if the second time is the charm, no?"

"There's the Zevran I know!" Taliesin laughed. Adrian had been betrayed by Zevran after all. He sighed, knowing he should have listened to Alistair.

ooo

Adrian understood something as the fight started. People, the ones who follow him, the ones he allied himself with, were truly meaningful to him. They weren't just tools, a means to an end. Adrian sincerely wanted to end the Blight and save Ferelden, he would do anything possible to defend the order that saved him from the Chantry. But at what cost? He trusted too much, allowed himself to be manipulated.

He kept Zevran alive when the offer was made because he needed manpower. Adrian knew that a blood mage, a whiny Grey Warden, a bitchy apostate, a crazy Chantry sister, a stubborn Qunari warrior and a dog would not stop the Blight. He was desperate. He needed soldiers. And so he took the elven assassin on his word.

And for awhile things were fine. Adrian thought of when Zevran saved him from a Genlock Emissary after it had snuck up behind him in the Dead Trenches. He thought of the fight with the Broodmother, and how it was Zevran's blade that won that battle. Adrian was reminded of the fight with Witherfang as he burned a Crow Assassin to nice blackened bits with a firestorm, how Zevran had supported Adrian's decisions and backed him up, despite Alistair and Wynne's protests.

He thought that Zevran's murderous intentions were gone, replaced by friendship and reliance.

Adrian was a fool and he knew it. The mage sighed as he spun his staff into the neck of another Crow, shattering his staff and, judging by the wide-eyed expression of the Crow, the neck as well.

But you can never trust people.

ooo

Rayne thought she would see pain cross Adrian's face as the fight progressed. She didn't get a good look, busy as she was trying to outmaneuver Zevran as well as keep him away from the mage, but when she caught glimpses, she didn't see sadness.

She saw nothing. His expression was blank.

In a way it reminded Rayne of Shianni, staring at Soris as he was executed. There was nothing written on their faces, but now Rayne understood the meaning why. The pain of betrayal from those you trust kills emotion. When trust is broken, it leaves nothing behind. It turns great men to husks, shadows of the greatness they once had.

Rayne's stomach twisted. What had she done? Why did she take Vaughan's deal? She ruined everything that day. Her life, Soris, Nelaros, Shianni...

Distracted by these thoughts, Rayne let her guard down. Zevran struck then, cutting upwards from a break in the armor covering her leg. The chainmail she wore protected much of her stomach, but it left a deep gash on her inner thigh. The wound bled profusely, almost spitting blood out. Zevran had hit a major artery, and judging by his smile, he knew it.

Rayne's leg gave out, dropping her to one knee, defenseless. Zevran smiled. Rayne just stared at him, accepting what was to come. For what it was worth, she deserved it.

Actually, she only accepted her fate until Alistair came barreling in Zevran, shield slamming into his face. What Alistair didn't expect was how both he and Zevran were standing near the edge of the building, and he let out a timid shriek as they both fell over the edge. Zevran grabbed a rope from a clothesline as they fell, which just happened to be attached to the tree where a Crow was hiding. Rayne watched with morbid amusement as the clothesline went taut as Zevran fell, Alistair gripping him, and then snapped the branch, taking the Crow with it as it succumbed to gravity.

By then Rayne's blood loss was getting to be too much. She turned slightly, getting a view of the battle. It was just Adrian, another Crow and Taliesin left now. She knew the mage would win. She had faith in his abilities. At least he'll live on while she died.

Rayne slumped over, finally submitting herself to the coming darkness.

ooo

Adrian's staff was useless. His energy running out. Weariness crept on the edge of his vision, weighing him down. There were only two enemies remaining, but he had to face them alone.

All alone.

It was like the fade all over again. He was betrayed again, alone and left for dead. Nobody could help him now.

But Adrian had triumphed over Mouse, making the demon part of himself. If he can win against a demon of Pride, what are two assassins? But he had no power left. In the fade he was confident, strong and able. He had triumphed over the rage demon and seen through the trap Mouse set for him. He was young then, despite it only being a year and a half ago.

He was naive. Overconfident, carelessly and boldly striding into danger with nary a thought of the reality of death.

Adrian had to try. He must try. The fate of Ferelden was lying on his shoulders. Adrian must not fail.

Adrian narrowly avoided the overhead swing of the Crow's sword. Taliesin had taken aim with his bow, his first arrow missing narrowly. The mage ducked under the swing, pressing his hand against the man's groin. He let loose the fury of lightning upon the man, frying everything in the area he pressed. The man screamed and slumped over, dead.

And now he had a meat shield.

Adrian propped the corpse up, ducking behind it as he moved closer to Taliesin. The first arrow thudded into the dead man's skull, the second burying itself into the dead Crow's leg.

30 feet away now. Adrian tossed the corpse aside, casting a spell, drawing from the power of blood.

An arrow pierced Adrian's robes, embedding itself into his stomach. The pain bent him double, but Adrian kept his concentration, calling upon the forbidden blood magic he learned from Jowan so long ago.

His magic snaked its way into Taliesin's blood, entering through a small wound the assassin had received during the fight. The assassin went rigid, his mouth open in shock.

Vision fading, Adrian struggled to keep his focus. He latched himself magically to the assassin, slowly siphoning away the man's life energy. Adrian channeled the power, healing some of his own wounds and directing some towards Rayne. The arrow wound was too deep, and he could only heal it somewhat closed. The internal damage would take more power.

Finally, he freed the man, still alive, and Taliesin slumped to his knees.

ooo

Light fluttered through her closed eyelids. Light meant life. Rayne wasn't dead yet.

She opened her eyes slowly. She was in pain, too much pain, but she was alive for now. She couldn't stand, and she knew she had lost a lot of blood.

She didn't understand it but her wounds had already clotted, stemming the flow of lifeblood from her. Rayne looked about, taking in her surroundings. She hadn't moved, and Adrian was still alive, apparently having won the fight. She felt relief Adrian was alive and well, as much as she didn't want to admit it. Taliesin was on his knees, mouth agape, shivering and sweating profusely.

"B-blood magic!" What was the assassin saying? Was Adrian a blood mage? "You...monster."

"Like you can talk." Adrian was hurt. Rayne wanted to stand, to see how badly he was injured. She...was worried. She shook the thought out her head. But just what was Adrian? A kindhearted blood mage? Do those even exist? Who was he really?

Are blood mages even evil like the Chantry says?

"Filthy...magic." Taliesin was in pain, but he didn't have any obvious wounds. How? The man looked haggard and unhealthy unlike how he was merely minutes before, seeming well-fed and happy.

"You judge me? An assassin looks down upon me?" Adrian laughed, but it was shallow, empty. His voice cracked as he chuckled, and then he started coughing, blood dribbling from his mouth. "I...do what is necessary."

Taliesin spit, but he lacked strength even to propel the globule all the way to Adrian, and it simply hung loose out of his mouth.

Adrian put his hand on Taliesin's head. The man froze, visibly terrified.

"And now you die. That is all you deserve." Adrian's voice chilled Rayne. He may have saved her but in both fights she'd been in with him since that rescue he had shown completely dissociated destruction. He was ruthless, doing anything possible to win. Could such a man exist, both savior and murderer?

Adrian's hand coursed with black energy, the sparks traveling over the assassin's body. The muscles under his skin seemed to melt away, the skin disintegrating. To Rayne it seemed as if the man was turning to liquid. Taliesin screamed, a shrill sound piercing the night air, like a wraith succumbing to the greatest of terrors.

The smell of death and burning flesh reached Rayne's nostrils as she lay on the ground, staring at the gruesome spectacle. Taliesin's body was decaying rapidly. Eventually, all that was left of the man was his bones, lying in a pile where they had fallen. Adrian stared at the remains for a second before turning towards Rayne.

Adrian walked to her, stumbling from his wounds. Rayne could tell he was hurt badly. That made two of them.

"My leg is...I can't walk." Rayne couldn't help but feel nervous towards Adrian now. Who wouldn't, considering what she had just seen? Still, she was worried about him, and herself. They weren't in a good situation.

"My healing...could not fully repair us both, I'm afraid." Adrian smiled crookedly as he struggled to pick Rayne up. He winced as he lifted her. "We should be fine so long as out wounds don't reopen...but we're barely scraping by as it is."

"Shouldn't we stay here to recuperate or wait for Alistair?" Rayne didn't even know if the other Warden was alive. He had taken a bad fall, but had since disappeared.

"Can't. If we're found in this state we can't fight back." Adrian headed to a doorway leading into the building. "I'm taking a risk by going to the ground, but it will be faster this way..." He trailed off, wincing, leaning against the wall involuntarily, accidentally bending Rayne's injured leg. The wound on her leg reopened.

Adrian apologized, but she didn't hear him. The pain was too great for her. She groaned, falling into the blackness again...

ooo

Adrian gasped, stumbling again, nearly falling into a pile of refuse on the side of the alleyway. He had somehow made it to the ground with no incident, but the wound in his stomach had opened again and the mage had no energy left to mend it closed again. He recalled the incident when he was injured vividly, replaying the moment in his head when Taliesin's arrow pierced his stomach.

The Wardens had won, yet it felt like a loss. Alistair had disappeared, Rayne was unconscious again, head pressed against his chest as Adrian struggled to walk. If only he could make it back to Arl Eamon... if only...

Adrian could feel the strength leave him. Rayne's weight pressing him down. He would not abandon her, no matter what. If he could do anything to save just one innocent life, he would do it. There has been too much death in this Blight already. The blood from her wounds flowed over his skin, mixing with his own as it dripped down his legs and onto the ground. They were both mortally wounded and Adrian could do nothing about it.

And so he was to die. No absentee god will save him or the elf in his arms.

"Well, at least I get to die with a beautiful lady in my arms." Adrian laughed at his fate, knowing nobody heard him, and that nobody was coming to rescue him. He was supposed to slay the Archdemon, free Ferelden from the Blight. He only made it half-way.

So close, yet so far. He had almost succeeded, almost dethroned Loghain and set the country on its way to defeating the darkspawn. Now he was just going to die in an alleyway, betrayed and alone, save for an unconscious elf who was bleeding to death as well. He couldn't even save her.

He tripped and both he and Rayne fell into the dirt. His blood pooling, his vision blackening.

It was over.

ooo

He was in the Fade. He knew the dream realm well.

Why? Adrian supposed he was unconscious, his mind traveling here as his body lay bleeding to death with Rayne.

No. He was brought here, drawn from his body because of his weakened state.

"Hello, Warden. Long time no talk." Adrian knew the voice well.

Mouse had broken free.


	4. Price of Power

**Chapter 4: Price of Power**

And Mouse was gone. For now.

Adrian knew the fey beast would return for him, trapped as he was in the dream realm. At least, he thought that was where he was. Could this all be an illusion?

The mage shook his head, befuddled. He couldn't think clearly. Why was he here? Where was here? The images solidified slowly. A scene started to play out, voices Adrian recognized.

It was his memories.

"Don't worry, son." A woman was crying, long auburn hair shining as she held a young boy close. She was crying, talking in low voices. "Mommy will always love you. I'll...never forget you."

"Where are they taking me?" The squeaky voice of the young boy pierced Adrian's heart. This was the last time he had seen his mother, the only family he had in the world. A templar grabbed his shoulder then, firmly pushing Adrian to the door, preventing his escape. He called to his mother. She only cried, praying to the Maker. He called out again, but she didn't respond. She didn't look at him.

The door shut. His mother was gone.

The scene shifted away from his childhood. More recent memories of his time in the circle tower rushed by him, some too quick to grasp. Others lasted slightly longer, lasting a little past a fraction of a thought.

The onslaught of nostalgic images stopped suddenly, focusing on a recent memory, one of the foray into the dungeons of the tower searching for Jowan's phylactery. The event that forced his conscription.

"No! You can't do this to him! I'm the one at fault, not him!" Adrian reached out for the ethereal representation of himself, his hand merely passing through the figures he saw. "Jowan and Lily have done nothing wrong!"

"Silence!" Knight Commander Greagoir, intimidating as he always was, stood before Adrian again. Back when he lived through this event, Adrian thought the man's face was filled with arrogance and contempt for the mages. Now, standing as an observer, not participator, all Adrian saw was weariness. A life of hardship, of harsh decisions and of failing to save the ones you love. He saw Greagoir's true face.

The scene skipped ahead to the night of the battle of Ostagar, the nervous period before a major battle. There was confidence in the air, prideful at the recent victories, hoping that the next would be the same.

Adrian had been leaning against a ruined Tevinter wall, staring into the sky. He knew that he was anxious for the future, wondering what awaited him in the coming bloodshed, yet he kept up hope. He was alone that entire time, thinking of his life up to that moment. When he was called to action he went with nary a complaint, but he did have two or three witticisms to share.

The scenes went blank, plunging Adrian into a sea of nothingness. He felt himself slipping away, losing control. Mouse was getting in, distracting him with memories, remnants of his past best left forgotten.

And suddenly there was light.

"Soris! Shianni!" A squeaking voice of a child, a girl of only a half dozen years running towards her two greatest friends. These weren't Adrian's memories. What were they?

Adrian's conscious flared, questioning his surroundings, finally finding a source of energy to fight the demon of Pride. Rayne was nearby him, unconscious as Adrian himself was. Adrian was peering into her mind, invading her dreams.

But this was a happy one, Adrian knew. A time before hardship was known. He watched the three children toss a beaten ball at each other for a time before noticing Rayne in her current form standing a distance away.

The images changed as he walked to her, centering around Rayne. Her hair grew slightly shorter, less wild and more maintained, reaching past her shoulders. Her features softened and the bags were gone beneath her eyes, the many scars she had on her face and arms faded, disappearing completely.

And then a smile emblazoned her face, one Adrian had never before seen. She was happy, truly happy amongst this memory, conversing with shadows of elves Adrian knew had long since disappeared.

"Why?" One word. The cheerful image shattered, replaced by blood and death. Rayne stood with an elf Adrian had never seen before, both covered in blood, faces showing no response to the blood they had shed. They stood amid a ring of guardsmen, all dead or dying from their many neat slashes and stab wounds, given by a style Adrian had seen before. Rayne had done this.

"Silly woman." It was Vaughan. Why? "You knife ears are all the same. Greedy, worthless trash, yet so easy to do business with. I'll have a man bring the sovereigns out to you and your friend."

Adrian saw the whole image then and understood. Rayne and Soris were bloody from fighting guards, and had stopped before going after the other men in the room. Vaughan and two other nobles stood a distance away, weapons away with smiles on their faces. A redhead elf Adrian had never seen before lay half naked on the floor, tears streaming from her face. She had been the one who shouted.

"How could you do this to me...?" The redhead's voice cracked. Rayne's face didn't change.

Rayne said nothing as she turned away. Soris did the same. They left the estate unchallenged. They cared not for the screaming.

The scene melted away, replaced by an impenetrable darkness. Adrian felt pain here, sadness, regret, fear. It was the prison beneath Arl Howe's estate. As Adrian's eyes adjusted he became aware of two presences. Rayne, shackled to the wall, and Mouse standing in front of her, hand stretch out, an inch away from touching her.

"So close, yet so far." Mouse stayed still as Adrian approached slowly. "I can almost feel her, touch her. Her life is nearly within my grasp, but alas I know I cannot enter her. We made a deal, Adrian, one that prevents me from ever escaping you. You tried to contain me, force me to subjugation. You wanted to hide me away, to attempt to function as a normal human." Adrian could tell Mouse was smiling. "I almost feel hurt."

"We will settle this, demon." Adrian reached for his staff, but realized he did not have it. This was the Fade, not an easy place to engage in combat. "I want my own body. You have to go."

"If I do you will die, and so will this pretty little elf girl. Your wounds are serious, mortal. Without my power both of you will succumb." Mouse turned, eyes shining despite there being no light. "I know what you wanted. You wanted to atone, to repent for all those dead because of your hand. You don't feel duty to the Grey Warden's, or to this girl. You only want to be redeemed, at any cost. You are not operating from the kindness of your heart and you know it. You want to restore your pride."

Adrian winced. Mouse had come closer, shifting its form into that of Rayne. "Save me, Hero of Ferelden! Grey Warden! Only you can defeat the Blight!" It moved its hands to its cheeks for added emphasis. Suddenly Mouse grabbed Adrian's neck, holding him up in the air. Adrian could feel Mouse snake inside him, worming into his thoughts. Images from his mind melded with Rayne's memories, shaking and rapidly changing, ever transient. The only constant was Mouse holding Adrian up.

"You will not...win..." Adrian spat the words out, shaking. He fought back viciously, but was losing ground. Mouse stayed ahead, forcing him back. Adrian was to lose his sanity after all.

His willpower was breaking, the barriers he erected in his mind to keep the demon out broke, giving way under the pressure of pride. Adrian searched for a loophole, a crack in the demon's onslaught. And he found one.

For a second he was inside the demon, seeing only lights and flashes of emotion. Thought was reality, everything confused, nothing static. Insanity crept onto Adrian, but he fought. He was fighting it from within.

Adrian reached back for Mouse, their positions were reversed, it was now the mage holding the demon up in the air. Its face contorted in pain, its posture becoming lax.

And it slumped over.

"I... am yours." Mouse had lost. Adrian was an abomination, but he had control.

ooo

"Wake up, damn it all. Adrian!" A familiar whiny voice. Adrian wasn't getting the usual impulse to kill something upon hearing it, however. Somehow he was grateful. He was alive after all.

Of course Adrian would have preferred to wake up to a female face, not a blonde bastard prince. Adrian slid his eyes open slowly, taking in his surroundings. He had somehow been moved into an abandoned warehouse. Rayne was nowhere to be found, but Alistair's presence was obvious since he was leaning over the mage.

"Move it before I think you're coming on to me." Adrian scoffed as he sat up. The pain in his stomach was gone, and upon further inspection he found the arrow wound was completely healed. How? He did not know. Had he healed himself in his sleep?

"Well aren't you just dandy and funny." Alistair sighed. "I was worried. I-I didn't think you were going to wake up."

"I'm not gonna die on you just yet." Adrian paused. "Is Rayne...dead?"

"No. Not just yet." Adrian turned at her voice. The elf girl was leaning against a wall behind him, completely motionless. Her eyes were puffy, Maker knows why, and she stared at him for a long time before walking forward, brushing his shoulder as she passed. She seemed odd but perfectly healthy.

They had survived, somehow.

"Arl Eamon will want to know what happened to us." Adrian sighed. They had wasted a lot of time and nearly had their lives cut short because of Zevran, the traitor. "Does Zevran live?"

"Last I saw he was rolling into the river. The fall from the building nearly killed me, I had to hang on to a window with one arm. One arm! In full templar plating! Tell me that isn't an ability befit of only a champion among men." Alistair puffed out his chest.

"It isn't. You didn't answer my question." Adrian stared at the blonde Warden, unsure how to respond to his humor. "Is he alive?"

"No idea."

Adrian sighed. "Great. Now we have to watch our backs for Loghain, darkspawn and a lone assassin. Life's always exciting isn't it?"

ooo

He wasn't like other shems. He condoned the killing of Vaughan, for one, and had obviously killed many of his own kind. He was also a mage, which Rayne had never encountered before. But that didn't explain her dream.

While she was unconscious it felt as if Adrian was reaching out for her, healing her. She had memories of him talking with a demon, a mighty one, arrogant and prideful, confident of its power. They argued, fought, but Adrian won over in the end, banishing the demon from her mind. She woke with no wounds, healthy as she had ever been. She would have died, if not for him, but what had she seen?

A shem had saved her life twice over. Was she to be grateful? Respectful? Discard her hatred of shems?

No. Not shems in general. Rayne didn't hate Adrian. She knew she couldn't. But who was he, really?

She pondered this the entire walk back to Arl Eamon's. The elf girl was ahead of the two Wardens, hands fiddling with the handles of her two daggers.

The daggers, The Thorns of the Dead Gods, were gifts from Adrian, who said he found them both in the Deep Roads, one scavenged from a dead noble, the other from a long forgotten cache hidden in a desolate corner of the tunnels.

He told her the story of the daggers and she had listened intently. When he spoke, Rayne had almost felt like she was back with Valendrian in the Alienage, sitting around a fire with the other children, listening to old tales of her people's stolen homeland. Adrian also said that he used to own the third Thorn as well, but lost it in a fight with a strange Fade Beast he accidentally unleashed in the Mage's Tower. The creature, resembling a bereskarn, had swallowed the dagger whole, taking it back to the fade with it as it lay slain by his hand, though Adrian was not sure how it was possible to take the item with it.

She valued them highly for a gift from a shem. Why was Adrian so different? What was he? He never judged her, never looked down upon her, never tried to harm her. He saved her life, not once, but twice. He had done nothing, so he deserved nothing bad from her.

She was gripped with the pain of homesickness, then. Rayne wanted to say she hated all shems for what they had done to her, how Vaughan had stolen her home from her, but she knew she couldn't. She had Adrian. At the very least she had to stay with him. She had nowhere else to go. She could never return to the Alienage.

ooo

Adrian sought Rayne out that night after returning to Eamon's estate. He needed answers to the things he saw in her memories. The dark shadows hinted at decisions the consequences of which had not yet been handled.

"Rayne." She turned quickly, startled, looking at Adrian as he closed the door to her chamber behind him. Adrian had noticed that he now seemed to have that effect on people. He moved silently without realizing. Was it Mouse's doing?

Rayne was clean for once. Nigella had insisted upon bathing and dressing her when they had returned from the misadventure with Zevran. Understandable, considering how her clothes were ripped, her chain-mail shirt bloodstained, scars marring her pretty face.

Pretty. Very pretty, with her shoulder-length dark brown hair, smooth features and regal blue eyes, all complimented by the silk gown and petticoat Nigella had fitted her into. Adrian knew he was captivated by the elf, but he tried to keep it out of his mind. He didn't come here for that.

"It feels weird." Rayne looked at Adrian again before turning back to her window, gazing out at the darkened city. There was light in Denerim still, and some noise, but mostly it lay silent, calm. Adrian knew better than to be fooled by its apparent serenity, however. Likely someone in Denerim was being raped, murdered, robbed blind or all three. "I'm not used to... riches. In the alienage, there were two sets of clothing. We wore one when the other got too dirty. I'd wash my clothes once every other week or so, but they always felt kind of grimy. I liked that. This is too clean." The elf shook her head slowly. Adrian almost thought he saw the hint of a nostalgic smile on her face, but it was gone just as quickly.

Adrian winced. He had lamented often of his fate in the Mage's Tower, but perhaps Rayne had it even worse. At least in the tower there were Tranquil who did all the chores, handling every trivial issue, allowing the mages to devote their time to their studies and training. He always had clean clothes, fresh food, books to read, people to talk to. Rayne was showing him he took it all for granted.

He stood next to her, following her gaze out into the city. She was looking at the Vhenadahl, the tree of her people, standing tall and proud in the center of the Alienage, across the Drakon River from where they observed.

"You don't want to return to the Alienage do you?" Adrian recalled the vision of the dead guards, the deal made and the redheaded elf girl screaming. Rayne had done something, something terrible, to her people.

Rayne looked at Adrian, blue eyes peering into his soul. "I knew you had found out somehow." She sighed. "I betrayed those who loved me, desperate as I was. My Father wanted to marry me off to some stranger. I had almost resigned to it when Vaughan came." Adrian recalled the slimy nobleman, both from Rayne's memories and the brief time in the Arl Howe's prison. "I almost felt relief when he disrupted our wedding. I was freed from it, at least for a time. I was kidnapped, along with a few other women, including my cousin Shianni, taken to his manor to be raped and beaten for his pleasure."

Adrian drew in his breath. Rayne's voice was steady, but he knew he pride was forcing her to hold restrain her emotions.

"I fought back and escaped when Soris came for me. We didn't even have any weapons, but I managed to free myself. It was close, I was lucky, but I made it so far. I slaughtered droves of them, those bloody shems." Rayne's hands clenched in anger, as if she was wielding a sword just then, waiting to plunge it into the heart of an unwary human. "But I chose to stop and listen to the wrong one. I wasn't mad at him then. I was almost indebted to him, I had thought. His actions allowed me to strike against my oppressors, to take a stand for what I knew was right. But I listened to him."

Adrian had a feeling he knew what was coming.

"He offered me forty sovereigns. That's enough to buy a house, to raise a family. It could free so many elves from poverty. The money was right there. All I had to do was let him keep Shianni..." Rayne's voice trailed off. Adrian could see a tear now streaking on her face, a definite break from her usual stoic expression. "I thought it was necessary. I wasn't thinking... I let my greed control me. 40 sovereigns... Maker, before then I had only ever had a few silver at most, and that was after a hard day of work." Rayne swallowed again, Pain wracking her voice.

"You took the deal?"

"Yes." Rayne wiped the tear away, trying to regain her composure. "And I was betrayed. The guards found Soris when he picked up the money. They got me later in the day as I was hiding in a friend's home. Nobody in the Alienage knew what I had done yet, but they soon found out."

Adrian nodded. He knew Rayne had been hiding a lot. It had only been a month since he had rescued her from Arl Howe's estate, and she had always been distant. He understood now. She couldn't go to the humans, her eternal oppressors. The elves would show her no kindness, and she knew nothing of the dwarves. Sten was an even greater mystery. She was alone in her grief, forced to live with the mistakes of her past with no one to help her bear the responsibility of atonement.

"Soris was executed a little while later. I had to watch. They didn't kill me, only imprisoned me. I just figured Vaughan wanted to have fun with me before he had my throat slit. But he never came. I remember hearing fighting up above, screams coming from further in the prison. I was left alone there, sometimes not getting food for days. I drank whatever condensation I could. I...I didn't know what to do. The guard's uniform changed suddenly. Nobody would tell me why. I stayed there until... until you found me."

Rayne looked up at Adrian again. She was strong, he'd definitely give her that. Her life was filled with trials and she stayed strong amidst it all. She relied on no one now.

"Who is the demon?" The question came suddenly. Adrian stepped back. What? Did Rayne know? Did she understand what was happening when he and Mouse fought within her mind? "What are you?" She stepped close to him. "Why did you save me?"

Adrian laughed nervously. He wanted to lie, but after what she had just revealed, it wouldn't be right. He had to trust me.

"I am a blood mage." He saw her eyes widen slightly, but no major reaction. She kept staring, her face inches away from his own. Adrian's heart was actually pounding. He was nervous? Afraid? Of her? "I made a pact with a demon to escape from death during my Harrowing, which is the final test to becoming a mage. I contained it, despite it being a demon of Pride. I used its strength to pass my Joining ritual to get into the Grey Wardens. I've borrowed power from it since, but it got out of the cage I put it in."

Rayne remained silent, but did not back away. It almost made him uncomfortable since she was so close, but it helped him that she wasn't showing fear.

"I battled it, yes. In that fight we both traveled into your dreams at one point. I saw your memories, and I believe you saw some of mine." Adrian tried to look away from Rayne, but her gaze was powerful, unrelenting. "I triumphed, but to do so I unified with it slightly. I am slowly becoming one with the demon, but I remain in control. Eventually it may take over, but I do not know if, when and what will happen afterward."

The mage stared back at Rayne. "I imagine you'd hate me. Vilify me. Throw stones, yell, call the templars, scream, run away! I wasn't planning on telling anyone." Adrain laughed in a shallow tone at his slight humor.

"No. I won't." Blunt and surprising. Rayne never failed to amaze him. "I don't care what demon is inside you. You're not an abomination, and if you are one then the Chantry is wrong about them being mindless killing machines. You saved my life and wanted nothing in return. I cannot judge you, and I'll be damned if I borrow a shem's religion to do so."

Adrian's throat caught. He had nothing to say. She didn't care. He knew that elves had differing views on magic than humans, but he always assumed everyone viewed his kind with disdain.

Somehow, through a tragic elf he rescued from a prison, he had found acceptance.


	5. Oppression

**Chapter 5: Oppression**

"The Denerim Alienage is the splitting image of fairness and justice, and how the principle of equality is so important to all Fereldens, isn't it?" Adrian spat after he spoke, disgusted by what he saw. Elves lay in the streets, corpses piling on the roadside, the stench of filth and manure in the air. The houses, if they could even be called such, were simply motley collections of boards that could obviously barely keep the rain out. Adrian could even make out a band of elves beating on a man as they approached the gate to the Alienage.

"'Tis pathetic. These elves allow themselves to be herded, and they don't even attempt to rise against their captors, to take their freedom like they should." Morrigan scoffed at the spectacle before her. "All they do is beat defenseless passersby. They are cowards."

"They are oppressed, Morrigan. They have no choice. They live in fear because the human lords want them to." Adrian was reminded of how his life was ruled by the templars, the fear of becoming abominations always rampant among Circle life.

Oh the irony, then, that Adrian was now what they feared most.

Adrian noted Rayne's silence. She stared ahead, her step hesitant. It had to be hard for her to return here after what she had done, despite it happening over a year ago. The mage figured nothing bad would come of Rayne coming along, it was good to have a person familiar with the area along, but there was always the chance of...

"It's her."

"The traitor."

"Wasn't she dead?"

"Shh, she's looking this way."

The elves around them had started talking. Rayne was staring forward, fists clenched, anxiety evident in her posture, if not on her face. Adrian figured the elves of the Alienage were close-knit, but not as drastically as he was seeing. Every elf turned his or her gaze upon Rayne as she passed. They talked amongst themselves, trying hard not to be overheard. Adrian knew that if Rayne had been alone they would probably approach her, maybe even hurt her.

"The elf girl is drawing attention. Was it wise to bring her?" Sten remarked bluntly, as per usual, not caring enough about her presence to even lower his voice.

"She knows the area. We need her." Adrian responded without hesitation, staring at the Qunari. Sten said nothing more. He had to admit he was not expecting the reaction he got from the elves. He had assumed they'd be too busy with the plague to care about Rayne.

"I agree with the Qunari." Morrigan just had to talk. Adrian sighed. "Don't dismiss what I say so easily, Adrian. The elves may not be so cooperative with her around. They are already pointing and mumbling."

Eventually the elves started thinning out again, running to tell family of Rayne's return, perhaps, or maybe just going back to their lives. It mattered not to Adrian, it was all the same.

Or maybe they were lining up.

The sight Adrian was confronted with was bizarre taken to an unnatural extreme. Over fifty elves cramming in front of one door, held back only by a handful of Tevinter soldiers, each armed, each struggling with the combined press of the poverty stricken elves.

"Let me in! I need to work, I have to be cured!"

"No! My children need me! Let me in next!"

Two mages stood at the head of the horde of elves, gentling gesturing them back while struggling to talk above the crowd.

"Please! We need to have order! You will all be treated, I promise. Just be orderly, one at a time, please!" The younger-looking mage held out his hands, trying to maintain order.

"No! Go back to your homes! These men are charlatans! Liars! If you go in there you may never come back!" Adrian saw Rayne freeze, staring at a redheaded elven woman at the side of the growing crowd of desperate elves, occasionally grabbing an elf at random in the crowd, trying to make them listen.

"If I'm not cured, my children will starve." A particularly burly elf pushed the redhead back. She tripped, falling backwards over a barrel. One of the soldiers snickered.

"Shianni!" Rayne rushed over, kneeling down next to the fallen woman. Adrian, Sten and Morrigan were close behind. Close enough to see Shianni's face turn from surprise to disgust and anger.

"You..." Shianni narrowed her eyes, standing up and brushing herself off. "Why are you here, traitor? You're supposed to be dead, like Soris."

"I..." Rayne stopped mid-sentence, standing with a hurt look evident on her fair features.

"I am the Grey Warden Adrian Amell, mage of the Ferelden Circle." Adrian drew Shianni's attention from Rayne, still speechless. "Would you mind answering a few..."

"Oh, look at that. Rayne, haven't you moved up in the world? Now you take the company of Grey Wardens." Shianni's voice dripped with contemptuous sarcasm. "You should be careful, mage. She'll dig a knife into your back easy. All they'd have to do is offer her a bit of coin." Adrian knew this wasn't going to end well at this rate. Elves do not forgive and forget, it seemed.

"I'll take my chances." Rayne had retreated a step from Shianni, the head she had held so high before drooped, her will smashed to pieces. Adrian was starting to regret bringing her along. "Can you answer a few questions?"

"If it'll get _her_ away from me, yes."

"What is the purpose of those mages? Why are they here?" Adrian gestured towards the Tevinters guarding the doorway, occasionally letting a person or two inside.

Shianni shrugged. "They came here awhile back, claiming to have a cure for the Blight plague going about. Naturally, a lot of us elves jumped to get cured. My uncle Cyrion, the hahren Valendrian... Thing is, they never come out again. Those Tevinters are doing something, and I want to know what."

"What do they do for this 'cure'?" Adrian was suspicious of the Tevinters already. According to Duncan and Avernus, there was no cure for Blight plague, the only immunity to it coming by suffering through the Joining.

"I don't know. They take them inside and they're never seen again. Thing is, that building is too small for all those elves. There's got to be a side passage somewhere, they're taking the elves elsewhere." Shianni had started eying Rayne again. "Are we done yet?"

"Thank you for your time." Adrian bowed slightly, tugging on Rayne's tunic as he turned to leave.

She complied, following him, saying nothing.

ooo

She was in the Alienage again, except now it only felt hostile. Shianni still hated her, that much was evident, and judging by the reactions of all the other elves, everyone else did too.

Adrian had moved to talk to the men by the quarantine, leaving her alone with Morrigan and Sten, who had started bantering, something about cuddling and fire-tipped crowbars. Rayne didn't listen, content simply to stare up at the sky she knew so well. With the Vhenadahl and the buildings in the way, it was hard to see most of it, but she had been used to how the leaves moved, blocking out different clouds at different times.

It was so long ago when she was accepted here, loved, respected and among friends. That was gone now, replaced with this brutalized shell of the place she once called home. Many elves she once knew to be healthy, pretty and happy were reduced to husks, sick or worse. She fiddled with the Thorns again, trying to wrap her head around the idea that she was no longer welcome here.

It angered her. Rayne didn't know why, she just felt rage, anger. Why did she have to endure these hardships? These elves knew nothing of pain. They had not been locked away in the darkness for over a year, taunted and touched by the guards, constantly afraid, wishing only for death. They blamed her for the execution of Soris, the rape of Shianni. They knew nothing of the truth of her regret.

And it dawned on her. They deserved it. Morrigan was right. Every last one of these elves deserved their fate, unable as they were to rise above the oppression and rebel, just as Rayne and Soris had done. Every single elf in the Alienage would have made the same greedy decision as her were they in her position, taunted with riches by Vaughan.

Rayne was drawn from her thoughts by screams. Adrian had cast a spell over the crowd, instilling in them a sense of abject horror. The elves stampeded, each running away from some unseen monster, shouting and trampling anything in their way as they sprinted for the shelter of their homes.

Adrian was fighting now, having already disarmed the younger Tevinter mage, using the mage's own staff against him. Rayne drew her daggers, a smile crossing her face. A fight was a great distraction.

Rayne was excited, no fear gripping her like it usually did, her daggers cutting swaths in the air as she ran towards a soldier who had her back turned to her. She sunk both Thorns deep into the man's back, the soldier arching his spine, screaming, before a third strike silenced him.

Sten came in behind her, taking the second of the four soldiers down with a swift overhead chop with Asala. Morrigan cast two spells in quick succession, one of freezing and the other a conjured rock that shattered a soldier just as soon as he froze.

Adrian had since finished off the younger mage with a fireball to the face and had grabbed the older one's face, peering into his eyes while letting loose lightning bolts into his skull. The last soldier fell quickly to Sten's strikes.

The fight was over as soon as it started. Six men lay dead within the span of seconds, Rayne realized. These Wardens didn't mess around. When they fought, they meant it.

They had power and purpose, unlike the elves of the Alienage, running about their sniveling, unimportant lives, constantly complaining of how they are treated unfairly yet doing nothing to change it. Rayne looked at the elves hiding before boards, doors, peering out at the carnage timidly. Cowards. All of them.

"You coming, Rayne?"

Adrian had already reached the door of the quarantine, holding the handle, waiting for Rayne to rejoin him. Adrian, the Grey Warden, the abomination. He had power. He used it, and he used it well.

Yes, the elves were nothing compared to him.

Her thoughts turned to Shianni, who had fled to the stage behind the Vhenadahl during the fight. Rayne no longer felt shame or pain looking at her.

Only contempt.

ooo

"Morrigan, take a look at this note. What do you think it means?" Adrian extended the crumpled paper towards the dark haired sorceress, who examined it for a second before shaking her head.

"I do not know, only that it implies there is more here than we know of."

Adrian sighed. The elves they had freed in the back room of the hospice weren't very helpful. They had shut up as soon as they saw Rayne, and he thought they had information, too. Adrian also made the mistake of killing all of the soldiers inside the hospice without questioning them first. All he had to go with was a strange note and a stranger key. Great.

"Sten, check around the back of the building." The Qunari complied with nary a mumble. Adrian reabsorbed himself in examining the large, empty hospice room. Before long he heard a shout, some scuffling and a groan.

Sten had found something.

"An elf?" Adrian frowned at the quarry that Sten dragged with him, the head of the elf protruding under his arm, the rest of him struggling to stand as Sten held him. "Where did you find him, Sten?"

"He was lurking behind the building. He is armed and armored despite the warning signs around the Alienage, so I apprehended him."

"Any other reason?"

"No."

"Don't hurt me, please!" The elf was recovering from the shock of being assaulted by the large Qunari warrior. He struggled against Sten's grip, but Adrian knew from experience that it was hopeless to even try. "I only did it for the money, I swear! I didn't have anything to do with selling the elves!"

Rayne's ears perked up in surprise. Adrian took a step forward, leaning in close to the captured elf, menacing him.

"Explain yourself."

"It was Devera and Caladrius! They... they came in here one day and set up business with their soldiers. They've holed themselves up in the Warehouse behind the apartments...please, that's all I rightly know! I'm just hired muscle!" The elf rushed through his speech, clearly terrified. Adrian had to wonder if he suddenly had become scarier all of a sudden. Was it Mouse's doing?

"Alright, alright. Slow down." Adrian smiled crookedly. He had plans for this elf. "You're going to show us the way, alright? If you do things right, you'll go back to your family happy and healthy. If not...bad things will happen. Got it?"

The elf nodded fiercely.

"Great. Lead on. Sten, let him go."

ooo

Rayne hadn't often come back into this area while she still lived in the Alienage. This was the slums of the slums, the worst part of the festering hole the elves called home. Those they walked past had sunken faces, devoid of hope and health, their expressions blank with despair. The only difference from how it used to be was that now these hopeless faces were plague-ridden as well.

The elf soldier stumbled ahead, constantly making wrong turns, increasingly becoming fearful, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. Rayne stared at him every time he did, just to heighten his anxiety, once even running her thumb across her throat and pointing at him.

He nearly doubled his pace.

Eventually they stopped at a large door, locked, of course. Adrian pushed the elf out of the way, inserting the key he found earlier. It caught, and the door swung open, fresh air freeing Rayne from the stench that pervaded the hovel.

"Ey! Who're you?" Figures they'd run into trouble. A gruff Tevinter soldier stood staring at them from outside, his saw sword drawn and ready.

"I... am here to relieve you." Adrian stepped forward, allowing Morrigan, Sten and Rayne to slip out behind him. They had emerged onto a small courtyard and, predictably, they were surrounded.

"No you ain't. We ain't being relieved 'til midnight...wait..." The soldier's eyes widened. "You...You're the Grey Warden everyone's been talking about! The one who killed Arl Howe!"

"That's right." Rayne saw Adrian narrow his eyes. "I've killed so many men, you'd just be a number to me. It's best you don't cross me."

"Hah! Yeah right!" The Tevinter smiled. "If I kill you, I get a raise. Your threats won't help you here, mage."

ooo

"They never learn. Ever." Adrian sighed. Another six dead because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Money makes your kind do strange things, mage." Sten shook his head. "I do not understand it. In Par Vollen duty is above all. Honor makes a man, and fluidity of loyalty serves no one well."

Adrian subconsciously glanced at Rayne, who was examining the saw sword of a fallen soldier, one who had his head taken off by the Qunari in the fight. Sten likely didn't know how closely his words had to do with Rayne. There was no need to mention it, of course.

"This is the warehouse right, elf? Elf?" Adrian turned around. The elf guide had ran off during the fight, too afraid to help or hinder the Wardens. He shrugged, uncaring. People do what they must to survive.

Adrian approached the door, waving the staff he had taken from the mage from earlier. The door flew inwards, and he heard a shriek and the crunching of bones.

"S-Stay your hand!" The cry came out rushed and worried. It was female, oddly enough, but Adrian had his fill of strange circumstances. Soon after, an elf appeared in the broken doorway, elegant bow in hand, arrow knocked and pointed at Adrian. A few soldiers appeared behind her, weapons at the ready. The elf with the bow paused when she saw the carnage in the courtyard. "Who are you, and why have you slaughtered our guards? Have the authorities finally decided to crack down on us?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Funny how your kind openly declares slavery to be immoral, yet jumps at the opportunity as soon as money is involved."

"Who says I'm with the authorities?" Adrian lowered his staff, trying to look nonthreatening. "I'm not here to bust slavers."

The elf was surprised enough by his comment to loosen her arrow slightly, narrowing her eyes.

"If you aren't here to bust us, I wonder why you'd go through the trouble of killing my guards. Tell me why you're here, human."

"You're a slaver, yet you are an elf?" Morrigan laughed. "'Tis most intriguing."

"The elves of this Alienage are pathetic excuses for living beings. They deserve what we give them, and nothing less." The elf looked back to Adrian. "Enough of that. Answer my question, human."

"Take me to whoever is in charge. I'll discuss it only with him." Adrian preferred to get through this without another fight. "I will parlay, if you agree."

The elf thought for a moment, pondering her options. Adrian could almost imagine the thoughts running through her head. If she attacks, she risks injury or death. If she lets him through, she has a greater chance of survival, but if things go south her boss may get hurt or killed. She would have to go with the lesser of two poor options.

"Very well. Come with me. If you so much as start casting a spell I'll gut you myself. You've been warned." The elf completely relaxed her bow, gesturing for them to follow.

ooo

They emerged into a wide room, cages running along the sides, filled with Alienage elves. Rayne recognized all of them. Valora, Taeodor, Gethon, all faces she had not seen in ages.

She saw her father too, head hanging against the cage, not even caring for the visitors. He had lost hope, Rayne knew. His nephew dead, daughter a traitor and presumed deceased and a niece who was raped and brutalized because of the daughter. He seemed but a shell of his old self, hanging on to life simply because he had no choice in the matter.

"Caladrius, these visitors have requested to see you. They claim to have a need to discuss something with you, and would only divulge it in your presence." The elf stood to the side, head slightly bowed towards a Tevinter near the back of the room who was examining a slave, checking his teeth, muscle tone, like an animal.

"Devera," The man stood, turning. His face was painted black in a design reminiscent of someone grabbing his face only to fall away, dead. "This prompted you to bring the Grey Warden into my presence? These are not the normal morally ambiguous noblemen we usually deal with, you realize." The mage shook his head. "You are too trusting."

The elf, Devera, took a step back, drawing her bow. "Grey Wardens? You never told me that..."

"Enough, Devera, do not be rude to our guests. You should get out more, else this would not have happened." Caladrius smiled. "If they did not outright kill us, that means they do not care much for righteous retribution. We may work something out yet."

"Speak quickly, mage." Adrian was blunt, quick. Was he nervous? No. He simply held little regard for the slavers, criminals as they were.

"If you are indeed Grey Wardens, you are here investigating Loghain, no?" Caladrius smiled upon seeing Adrian's expression. He knew he was right. "If we were to fight here, not only would you have some extreme difficulty due to your being outnumbered..." Caladrius gestured to the dozen-or-so soldiers who also guarded the room. "...but you'd also have a hard time interrogating corpses for your...information. Now, I have a letter with the seal of the Teyrn of Gwaren, Loghain, explicitly allowing my slave trade as well as the information about the deals made. I'll gladly hand it over if you...had the right price."

"Price? You deal with Wardens. If I do not like this offer of yours you will die. No question." Adrian smirked. "Tread lightly, mage."

It was now Caladrius' turn to laugh. "There is only one Warden among you, and if we were to fight neither side would come out unscathed. My offer is simple, so worry not. 100 sovereigns for the letter, and me and my men will pack up and leave for Tevinter with our profits and slaves a few weeks earlier than Loghain had planned. No fight necessary."

"Am I to trust the word of a man who works for a traitor, and is willing to betray him?"

"Trust is irrelevant. The only thing that matters here is if you get what you want, right?" Rayne could tell Caladrius had made these sorts of shady deals before. He knew exactly what to say, how to lead Adrian into the deal, and to get himself out alive. "100 sovereigns and the letter is yours."

"'Tis a good starting offer." Morrigan mused behind Rayne. It felt odd, but Rayne wasn't sure she cared about the elves. She looked at them, so used to misery that the Wardens, their possible saviors, that they did not even turn their gazes upwards in hope. Cyrion had slumped to the floor.

Devera was right, they were disgusting.

"I have a counter-offer."

ooo

Adrian hoped Rayne wouldn't take it the wrong way. He was gambling with the fates of her family, after all. Still, he saw no confusion or anger cross her face, at least not directed at him.

He had thought she would have been the least likely to be willing to make a deal with Caladrius, but she had shown less reaction to the situation than Sten. What was she thinking? Did she care?

"Oh? Intriguing. So the Grey Warden is willing to make deals with slavers after all." Caladrius was smiling again. "Let's hear it."

"You leave the slaves and letter." Adrian narrowed his eyes. "Take your gold and your lives. I never want to see any of you here again."

Caladrius hesitated. Was he considering it?

"We... cannot do that. The slaves are needed, you see. There is no way we can leave without them." Caladrius shook his head. "I cannot do that."

"Parshaara. We waste time here. Let us simply do away with these slavers." Sten drew Asala, gesturing it toward Caladrius.

"Wait...Sten!"

"Shame it has to come to this." Caladrius had grabbed his staff, pointing at Adrian. The soldiers unsheathed their weapons as well, slowly moving to surround the Warden and his allies.

A fight after all, despite Adrian trying to avoid it.

ooo

Rayne ducked under the slow swing from a nearby Tevinter soldier, lashing out at the legs of another one standing to her side as she did so. That one fell, bleeding from a major artery in his thigh. The other in front tried to chop downwards, but Rayne was too quick, throwing one Thorn at his chest, her satisfaction growing as she saw the dagger sink in. She jumped him, burying the second dagger in his eye.

She stood, daggers in hand, searching for another foe. Adrian had jumped from the landing they had been standing on, enacted a magical shield around himself and tried to fight off Caldrius and two soldiers. Morrigan had just cracked the neck of one Tevinter running down the right stairs, fighting her way to Adrian, while Sten had jumped straight into the fray, off the landing like Adrian, easily combating four enemies.

Rayne saw Devera to her right, bow taut, aiming at Adrian. Alarmed, she ran towards the elven archer, slashing at one Tevinter as she passed by him. Devera didn't see Rayne, letting her arrow fly. It arced through the air, imbedding itself in Adrian's shoulder. He nearly fell off balanced from the pain, but kept his composure.

"You bitch!" Rayne threw one dagger, which flew into Devera's arm. Devera winced at the wound, but remained composed. The other Thorn Rayne slashed with, cutting deep into Devera's leather armor. The dagger rebounded on a metal plate, jarring it from Rayne's hand. The second attack had been useless, not even drawing blood. Now weaponless, Rayne wrapped her leg around Devera, putting weight against her head, toppling her.

Devera dragged her down, and they rolled, kicking, biting, doing anything to try and get control. They rolled down the stairs, bruising them both in many places. Rayne felt her hand brush her dagger, grabbed it, and dug it into Devera's side, who had managed to climb on top of her. The elf slaver gasped, blood flowing over her side. She groaned, struggled vainly for a few seconds, and collapsed. Rayne didn't know if the other elf was unconscious or dead. It mattered not.

Rayne pushed the elf off with some difficulty, searching for her other Thorn. Too late, though, another soldier had seen her and was coming her way.

Rayne threw her dagger, imbedding it in the man's throat. The Tevinter was too near Caladrius for her to retrieve the dagger, however. She needed another weapon.

She saw her other Thorn. It had slid into a cage during the scuffle with Devera, positioning itself right under her father's feet. Cyrion stared at it for a second before picking it up, turning to face Rayne. She stared at Cyrion for a second, hoping he'd give the dagger back.

Cyrion looked back. Recognition of his daughter went by his face, a brief moment of relief on finding his own daughter, followed by confusion, then anger. He dropped the dagger, just out of Rayne's reach.

He had denied her. Rayne's own father had cast her aside.

She had no time for familial contemplation, though. The battle was drawing to a close, but there were still enemies to fight. Adrian had been wounded by the arrow Devera launched, the shaft protruding from his left shoulder, that arm hanging limp, blood flowing steadily from the wound. He was engaged solely with Caladrius now, each throwing powerful mental and physical spells at each other, destroying much of which they came into contact with. Morrigan had felled another two soldiers, and Sten was finishing up the last of the four from before.

Wait. That meant there was still one Tevinter left, aside from Devera and Caladrius, the former of which had been killed.

Where was he?

ooo

Caladrius was a powerful foe, possibly the strongest mage Adrian had ever fought. He held his own against Adrian despite how he drew upon Mouse's power. They were both weakening, and both knew it.

Adrian had the upper hand, and the slaver knew it. All of Caladrius' men were either engaged or dead.

Cornered animals make dangerous foes, however, and Caladrius was definitely cornered. Sweating profusely, with blood flowing from his shoulder, Adrian knew that the battle had to end soon, or he'd pass out. Caladrius wouldn't last against Morrigan, Sten and Rayne, so it was just a matter of whether Caladrius could defeat the Warden or not.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he thought he saw something moving. It was behind Rayne, who was trying to grab her dagger that had slid inside a cage. None of the elves were helping her.

A soldier with a crossbow! It was leveled towards Rayne, aimed and ready to fire.

"Rayne!" Adrian broke from combat with Caladrius for a second, just for a second, casting a spell at the soldier with the crossbow. The fireball enveloped the archer perfectly, his crossbow going up wide, easily missing Rayne, as he burned and died. Relief flooded through Adrian, turning back to Caladrius, to more easily engage him.

But Sten already had Asala to Caladrius' throat, his arms up in surrender. The Warden had won.

"Wait, please, don't kill me. I...have another offer." Caladrius looked around, horrified at the carnage. Devera lay bleeding across the floor, all twelve of his hired hands slaughtered. The elves had hope on their faces once more, but Adrian noticed they still didn't give Rayne her dagger.

They hated her, despite how she helped save them.

"Make it quick. I tire of you." Adrian glared at the slaver. He held no hatred for the man, but one had to wonder why they'd spare the life of a man who tried to kill them. Sten did start the fight, though.

"I can...use the life force of these slaves to... augment your physical abilities greatly." Caladrius spat blood on the floor as he struggled to stand.

"And why would I want that?" A ritual to kill the elves, even if it could aid him greatly, could not even be considered. Could it?

"Imagine...having the strength, speed and skill of all these elves within you. Their life will power your own. You'd be...much harder to kill than you already are." Caladrius laughed shallowly. "And if I may say so, you are already pretty hard to kill."

"Take his offer, Adrian." Of course Morrigan would align herself with Caladrius' way of thinking. "You Wardens say you will do anything to stop the Blight, no? This is a good opportunity, if a bit messy."

"I also agree. Foul magic can be useful." Even Sten. Rayne couldn't possibly...

"Do it." Adrian nearly fell over with shock. She was willing... to sacrifice her own family, the people she grew up with, all those she'd ever known?

ooo

"They are not who I used to know. The Alienage has discarded me." Rayne looked away. "I am not one of them anymore. If it helps stops the Blight, then you should do it, right?" It was painful to say, but she felt a great hatred towards the elves in the Alienage now, despite it. "At least this way their lives will have some use, right?"

Adrian paused. Rayne knew he was considering it. She wasn't sure he would accept. If she knew two things about Adrian, they were that he was ruthless and that he didn't like killing. But which side would win over in this decision?

"Caladrius...you are an abhorrent human being. You've brought nothing but pain and death to this Alienage. However, it looks like you're going to be overshadowed... by me." Adrian paused. "Perform the ritual, mage, then give me that letter. I never want to see you again."

At hearing Adrian's words, suddenly Rayne wanted to cry. What had happened to her? Where did her idyllic life go? What happened to the love she felt for Shianni, for Soris, for all the elves of the Alienage?

She didn't cry, no matter how hard she wanted to, not after what she had said. She didn't cry as the souls were sucked from her former family, as they screamed in terror and anguish as they were ripped apart by the ritual. She didn't cry as she watched her father's body be wracked with pain, and as he perished, his soul flowing into Adrian. She didn't cry as the one human she trusted, the one human she knew, took the lives of all that she had formerly known. She didn't cry when the ritual ended, Adrian's red eyes now glowing with the blood of elves.

Caladrius left then, leaving the letter incriminating Loghain behind.

In a way, Rayne had died. The part of that once was a city elf was gone, now, replaced with a nothingness, emptiness in her heart.

Rayne had heard Adrian quote Sten once, when the mage told her a story of his travels. "Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life, to know nothing of regret."


	6. Curses

**Chapter 6: Curses  
**

"Where'd you get this dagger?" Adrian grabbed the petty arms dealer by his shirt, drawing him close. He had been browsing the Market District, killing time while he waited for the day to pass. The Landsmeet was the next day, and trepidation had Adrian on edge. "Last I saw it was swallowed by a Fade Rifter in the Circle Tower. How'd you come to find it?"

"A-A-A templar. S-Said his name was Cullen, or s-something. S-Said he hunted m-m-mages." The stuttering merchant, clearly terrified, jumbled his words terribly. Adrian sighed, letting go. No point getting agitated.

"I want it. Here's 2 sovereigns." Adrian deposited the two gold coins into the man's shaking hands. He turned away, saying nothing more to the shaken merchant, not noticing the man's fervent prayers of thanks.

It seemed most people were grew nervous in his presence now. Adrian didn't like it much, but it did help with not getting approached by random thugs. Regardless of that, Adrian realized he now had all three of the Thorns of the Dead Gods.

He recalled Barlin, back in Lothering, telling him the story of the Thorns of the Dead Gods, three identical daggers scattered throughout the land, forged by a master smith from the remains of a broken blade, the one that slew Toth, Archdemon of Fire, in the second Blight. He was told they were cursed, wretched things, and that all who touched them, no matter how briefly, died horribly before their time.

To Adrian, they were only powerful weapons of old, corrupted by darkspawn blood, and useful because of it. He had possessed the three at different times before in the past, the first, and also the one he just reacquired, he bought from Barlin nearly a year before, and lost during a fight against a Fade Rifter in the Circle Tower. The second he took from the corpse of Lord Anwer Dace in the Aeducan Thaig, and the third he found in an old cache of supplies in Caridin's Cross. The latter two he had given to Rayne, as she knew how to use them and she didn't have any weapons of her own. He told her the story of the curse then, and, not believing it, she took them. She almost looked happy when she sheathed them, explaining that it was the first time she ever owned a real weapon.

Come to think of it, Barlin died when Lothering was invaded. Lord Dace was dead when Adrian found him, and the cache looked like it had been abandoned in a fight. Maybe they were cursed after all?

Adrian laughed. There was no such thing.

He figured Rayne would be happy if he gave the third dagger to her. Ever since the events at the Alienage she had appeared rather haggard, understandably so. Though only Sten, Morrigan, Rayne and himself knew about the blood ritual, Rayne was hit the hardest by it.

Adrian had decided to take Rayne shopping as a way of distracting her. He made sure to bring Leliana along so that her bubbly happiness and girlishness would rub off on Rayne, and so far it was working. Leliana and Rayne were bonding, somewhat. The elf girl was reserved around most humans, and, aside from Adrian, generally looked upon them with contempt.

Rayne had left the other two Thorns with Adrian while she shopped and he felt strange when he held all three. They were...drawn to one another, almost seeming elated that they had been reunited. Adrian knew they had come from the same blade, so maybe that was why.

"I see you are quite lost in your thoughts, Adrian." It was Riordan. Adrian hadn't seen the elder Grey Warden much since rescuing him, the last time he had conversed with Riordan was when he had requested the location of the cache of supplies for Grey Wardens. They had found Duncan's shield there, which Alistair carried with him since. "Might I ask about what?"

Adrian didn't know why, but he trusted Riordan a great deal, despite only meeting him a month before. Maybe it was because they were both Grey Wardens, bonded by duty to defeating the Blight. Or maybe it was because they both knew and respected Duncan. Or maybe it was simply Adrian's imagination.

"These three daggers...I had been wondering about them. If the legend I heard was true, they were one blade once and had killed Toth in the second Blight." Adrian flipped one over, looking at the faded smiths seal on the pommel. "I had thought they may be useful, so I kept them." Adrian sat on a barrel, locking eyes with Riordan. "There's so much blood on these blades. Lord Pyral Harrowmont went to the stone with a slit throat by one of these. The Lady of the Forest's dreams of curing the werewolves were silenced with one, as was Swiftrunner's. Uldred, too, was killed by one. Kolgrim, of Haven, fell with stab wounds in his face from these daggers.. And that's not even counting all the darkspawn, bandits and various other random enemies felled by these." Riordan merely smiled. Adrian realized he probably had no idea who those people were. Maybe it was best that way.

"If they came from one blade, maybe they can come together again?" Adrian was caught by surprise. He'd never thought of that. "If it truly killed the Archdemon Toth, it must be a powerful blade indeed, right? I know just the smith to do it, too."

Rayne and Leliana were approaching now, arms full with fanciful and very female goods. Leliana was beaming like usual, Rayne seemed better than she was before.

"I'd have to ask Rayne first. They aren't mine anymore, after all." Adrian stood as the two women approached, his arms outstretched, offering to carry one of the many packages. Both shook their heads, causing great relief for Adrian, considering the sheer amount they had bought.

"Ask me what?" Rayne's head was cocked in wonderment. Maker, she looked much better today. Leliana had that ability to make people happy, and Adrian was grateful for it.

"I found the third Thorn." Rayne's eyebrow shot up in wonderment. Emotion. That was good. At least recent events hadn't completely killed her spirit. "And I think Riordan knows someone who can reforge the sword they were made from, with your permission, of course.

Rayne looked at him, still somewhat surprised, slowly nodding. "O-Of course."

"I'll take the shopping bags and whatnot to the estate." Leliana took all of Rayne's bags. Adrian had to wonder how she didn't fall over from the weight. "I'll see you later, Rayne, and we can try on all these dresses. And the shoes! Oh, that blue satin one will..."

She sauntered off with some difficulty, weighted down by all the purchases. Adrian was tempted to help her, but Riordan was already walking off, Rayne following close behind him. He sighed, catching one last murmuring about shoes from Leliana, and ran after Riordan.

ooo

"Welcome, welcome, to Wade's Emporium! Fine weapons and armor on display and on sale, all made in shop by the Master Smith Wade! I am Herren, the humble money manager and salesman." Herren walked up, clasping Riordan's hands in his own.

"We're here with a request, though it may seem strange." Herren nodded slyly. Anything to get paid, Rayne assumed, even if it required being friendly. She could tell he didn't like the formalities or being forced to smile. In a way, Herren reminded her of Alarith, the shopkeeper in the Alienage.

Alarith. Part of her old life. Best not to think of it.

"We have come into possession of three daggers, rumors abound saying they used to be part of one blade..." Riordan started to explain the story again. Rayne watched Adrian fiddle with a suit of dragonbone armor on a display stand.

She was surrounded by weapons and armor, the likes of which she knew she never would have been able to afford. It was odd enough having her own suit of chainmail, which was expensive enough, but soon she'd even have a sword, one fashioned from legends. She'd have to give up the daggers she used, of course, and she'd need to find another weapon to use it with, but she'd finally have a sword of her own.

Rayne watched with detached amusement as Riordan and Herren bartered. Eventually Wade, the smith, jumped in and demanded it be free, that it was a privilege to work with such fine materials, much to Herren's chagrin.

How her life had changed. Was it for better or for worse? Rayne wasn't sure, but maybe things would get better. All she had to do was help Adrian defeat the Blight and...

Adrian. The Blight. She had only become aware of their existence a month ago, and she had already seen things she never before thought possible. She was a companion to Adrian now, just like Leliana, Sten or Morrigan was, but she never truly made it official. It just...happened.

Rayne knew she liked being with them, she enjoyed talking with Leliana about trivial, girlish things. She found Sten's stoic nature amusing, and his serious nature intriguing. Morrigan was a bitch, but she was persuasive and powerful, both qualities Rayne admired. Oghren spent most of his time in the estate kitchen eating, vomiting and drinking, and she originally didn't think the drunk, perverse dwarf was even a part of the Warden's band, until Leliana had told her otherwise, also saying he was a mighty warrior, despite appearances. Shale stared at the wall most of the time, and always called her "it", but she immediately warmed up to the golem when they both admitted they hated most humans, aside from Adrian, of course. Wynne was old and preachy, but she seemed sensible, for a shem, and didn't think less of her for being an Alienage elf, and the dog, Sanskrit, was dependable enough. Rayne shook her head in disgust when she thought of Alistair, though. She hated him, and rarely interacted with the whiny, pathetic excuse for a Grey Warden. He was good in a fight, though, and easily made fun of.

Rayne didn't need the Alienage, even with Alistair around she was fine with these new friends, her new family. She was fine being with Adrian.

And maybe, if she kept telling herself that, she'd finally forgive herself for what she'd done.

ooo

"Ah! The Thorns of the Dead Gods! Oh, the splendor of them! How beauteous! How elegant! How...incomplete. I must work now. I will have your sword ready eventually. I'll..."

"Eventually?" Riordan questioned Wade, his right eyebrow's altitude rising. "When is eventually?"

"Eventually means eventually. A master needs much space to create true excellence, I can not function if..."

"What Wade means is that he isn't sure." Herren jumped into the conversation, amusing Adrian. "We'll have it delivered to Arl Eamon's estate once the blade is finished, I assure you. As for payment..."

"I said it's free!"

"Is 20 sovereigns acceptable?" Adrian pulled out his coin bag, unclasping it slowly. He had noticed Rayne had been looking at him a lot lately, examining him. He wasn't sure why, but he was glad the elf didn't seem too miserable. He had to admit he'd been looking at her a lot too.

"That's fine."

"Ugh. Herren, you never let me do anything the way I want too..."

"Oh, stop pouting."

The three left the shop shortly afterward to let Wade do his work. They could still hear him and Herren arguing about the payment as they walked out.

"I am afraid I must be off, Adrian." Riordan turned, offering his hand. "It was a pleasure."

"If you don't mind me asking,"Adrian clasped the other Warden's hand, shaking firmly. "Where do you keep disappearing to?"

"I have been examining Denerim and the surrounding countryside for signs of the Blight, as well as mapping out possible locations an army can occupy in the area. Hopefully my investigation efforts will help in the case of an attack of Denerim." Adrian nodded. No need to keep the elder Warden from his duties, then.

"Very well. The Landsmeet is to begin tomorrow. Will you make it back in time?"

"I shall try." And he was gone.

ooo

Adrian awoke the next morning with breakfast from Nigella, as usual. He had to admit he liked being waited upon. Nobles had it so easy.

There was also a package for him from Wade's Emporium. Adrian could barely contain his excitement at what had been forged from the Thorns as he opened the package.

What he found surprised even him, and he dismissed the serving girl, making sure she didn't see it.

There were two things in the wrapped package. A blackened sword that dimmed in light, shining in darkness, if that was possible, almost a scimitar, perfect for Rayne's fighting style. The other a scabbard designed to fit the sword.

But what surprised him wasn't that the sword was black...it was the corruption he sensed from it. The blade dripped poison, it seemed, the touch dark and foul. It was almost...evil.

Adrian liked it immediately.

"There's no sense calling you a Thorn of the Dead Gods... So what is your name, blade?" Adrian paused, puzzled. What should he call it? It was corrupted with the blood of a dead Archdemon, after all.

"How about Blightblood?" Rayne was standing in his doorway, outfitted for battle, a slight smile on her face. Her chain-mail was worn and scratched, but Adrian had a feeling she wouldn't want a different suit, even if it killed her.

"Yeah. Blightblood, forged from the Thorns of the Dead Gods, which in turn were forged from the remains of the mighty sword that slew Toth. Fitting." Adrian smiled, holding the blade out for Rayne. She took it with no complaint, sliding it into the scabbard from Wade after she checked the blade's balance. She strapped the scabbard to her left hip. Adrian noticed she had another dagger, one she hadn't seen before, attached to her other hip. "Where'd you get the dagger? Riordan? Alistair?"

"I found it." Her smile vanished and she turned, heading for the door. "It's called Fang."

ooo

Everyone was ready to go to war, it seemed, if war was the Landsmeet.

"Do you think Loghain would really attack us there? Isn't there a history of non-violence?" Adrian pondered to Arl Eamon as he searched for a staff, any staff. The one he had before, the one he had taken from the Tevinter in the Alienage, had been forgotten there, and he hadn't thought to replace it. "Damn, I'll have to go without."

"I am not sure if he will or not. It is better to be alive, and to do that we'd probably need to be prepared." Arl Eamon was sensible as always. "I'll go ahead now. Once you've gotten ready and decided who will come with you, come to the Palace. By then the Landsmeet will likely already have started."

Adrian bowed as the Arl left with a small group of soldiers. He was suddenly gripped with a slight anxiety. What if the nobles sided against them?

"We're so close now." Alistair was leaning against a wall, outfitted in Cailan's old armor. Eamon's idea, to make him look more like the king. Starfang was strapped to his back, along with Cailan's shield. "The Blight...we're finally going to be able to fight back, to win!"

"Yes, I'm so excited." Adrian said sarcastically, more interested in finding a suitable staff than whatever the other Warden had to say. He considered taking a simple stick with him. No. That wasn't impressive enough. If he was to strike fear and awe into the nobles, he can't be using a tree branch. What would he say? 'Fear the might of my curvy branches!' Adrian sighed. "Have you seen Bodahn? That damnable dwarf would probably still have the staff I got in the Circle Tower. What did the Quartermaster call it? Staff of the Magister Lords?"

Adrian walked off, leaving Alistair alone, constantly mumbling to himself while searching for Bodahn. He had been under the impression that the dwarf was staying in Eamon's estate, but...

"Looking for this?" Rayne had popped around a corner, twirling a silver staff around her hand. "Bodahn said you might need it."

"Where'd you find him?" Adrian took the staff, grateful it had been returned to him. If he had no weapon then he'd be near useless in a fight. Spells alone would not block blades.

"He left."

"Why?"

"Don't know." Wonderful. Regardless, he had little time to be annoyed at the sudden disappearance of the "reliable" dwarf merchant.

"Rayne. I..."

"Want me to come along to the Landsmeet, right?" Rayne smiled at him. Her response came as a surprise, quick and almost lighthearted. So she was getting better after all, her smile was evident of that.

"You, Sten and Alistair, yeah. Three people I wouldn't trust more to fight with me." Adrian turned, but he caught Rayne's blush. She was definitely healing.

ooo

"Halt, Wardens! You will go no further!" A vaguely familiar voice drew Rayne from her thoughts. She and the Wardens had just entered the Palace, the Landsmeet starting by then. She knew Adrian wanted to waste no more time, as important as the Landsmeet was.

"Ser...Cauthrien...?" Alistair's jaw hung dumbly. Rayne still couldn't believe how much of a difference there was between Adrian and Alistair. Adrian was regal, reliable and intelligent. The other was...the exact opposite. But Rayne knew the warrior standing before her. It was the woman who tried to arrest them in Arl Howe's estate. She thought the knight had been crushed in the wreckage. Guess not. Pity. She'd have to die all over again.

"I will not let you go in there only to spread lies and slander about Loghain." Ser Cauthrien drew her blade. "Draw your weapon. We will settle this, and no tricks like last time!"

"Ser Cauthrien, wait a moment." Adrian spoke quickly, eying his surroundings. If they fought again, Rayne knew he wouldn't simply be able to collapse this building to finish it. "Loghain isn't the same man you revered. He's become a monster. He sold his own citizens into slavery!"

"Silence!" Ser Cauthrien was yelling now. Soldiers formed up behind her. "I will not...believe those lies..." Her voice cracked. Surprisingly, her sword dropped. "I don't want to believe he's gone mad."

"Loghain was an honorable man before, but the Blight has driven him to become what he is now. Please, Cauthrien, let me pass." Adrian had stepped forward, too far. Rayne was getting nervous. If the knight decided to attack, Adrian would be wide open. Was that his strategy? "Don't do this."

"I...I..." Ser Cauthrien slumped, defeated, hopeless. "I cannot believe this day would come but...I will stand aside. I have seen Loghain do too many...horrible things.

"Thank you." Adrian smiled. Rayne couldn't help but feel surprised at his compassion. If she were in his shoes, she would have just attacked, to get it over with as quickly as possible. She didn't understand it.

"Stop him, Warden. I beg of you."

ooo

Adrian and his group stepped past her, past everything they had endured in getting here. The Landsmeet awaited. He took a deep breath, placing both his hands on the door. He looked back, the faces of his three companions looking back.

Alistair, his greatest friend, one who'd been with him since day 3, if day 1 was normal life and day 2 was choking on darkspawn blood. Adrian knew of no better man to be king, a compassionate, kind one who could lead Ferelden with a firm, yet gentle rule. Adrian had talked at length with him, discussing the plans to put him on the throne. Alistair was ready, willing, to take up the mantle of his father.

Sten, the mighty Qunari warrior and one of the most duty-oriented people Adrian knew. If there was any other man more dedicated to ending the Blight, Adrian would die of shock. They had an unspoken bond, a bond of two fighters, equally awed and respected by each other. Adrian had found Sten's sword, his soul, Asala, and restored the Qunari's honor. The mage knew that the Qunari was eternally grateful for that, though he would not say so himself.

And Rayne. He knew her well, despite only having had her around for a little past a month. He understood her, and she him. An elf, one who endured so much pain, was the only one who knew his darkest secrets. Who would've thought of it? A blood mage, an abomination, accepted by this pained elven girl. Adrian locked eyes with her and smiled. When she returned it, he knew she'd be by his side until the end.

Finally, the efforts of the Grey Wardens would be rewarded. All they had to do was finish this, win the support of the nobles.

If they could not, then Ferelden was lost.


	7. Fear and Awe

_Holy crap. Three chapters in one day. That was... excruciating. Still, I'm happy with what I managed to turn out, and I hope my readers are as well. Thank you, every who reviewed. I love getting comments on my story. I especially want to thank Mille Libri, the first one to review my story. She helped kill my doubts about this story and inspired me to keep going. I give to you my deepest gratitude._

_To everyone who reads this, please let me know what you think of my story, and I love constructive criticism. Don't be afraid to be a critic!_

_And, without further ado, my chapter on the Landsmeet.  
_

**Chapter 7: Fear and Awe**

"My lords and ladies, Teyrn Loghain has gone mad with power. His paranoia and corruption has caused us the disaster at Ostagar, a civil war and countless innocent sacrifices!" Arl Eamon's voice rang through the air, his presence silencing the quibbling noblemen. "He is not fit to lead us anymore. I propose we put Alistair, King Maric's own son, on the throne as rightful King of Ferelden!"

Applause, shouts, some boos. Overall, it wasn't a bad response and Adrian had to be impressed by the tail-end of Arl Eamon's speech. The applause was quickly silenced by the voice that came next, however.

"A fine performance, Eamon, but none of us are taken in by it."

The dark bastard himself had appeared. Loghain. The queen-piece showing itself at last, signaling both sides that the grand game had to end at last.

"There are those that wish to divide us, to make us vulnerable to the Blight! They seek to put a puppet, an unconfirmed bastard prince, on the throne!" Adrian could feel the power in Loghain's voice, the malice, the anger, the ruthlessness. He was good, very good, his reputation and skill as an orator shining through, swaying noblemen. Adrian stepped forward, pushing through the crowd of Bann's and petty noblemen wishing to see the outcome of the Landsmeet.

"Ah!" His voice was high, sounding almost insane with anger. "And here is the puppeteer!" Loghain's lips curled into a vicious smile. "Tell me, Warden. How will the Orlesian's take Ferelden from us? Will they simply saunter in with their armies banners held high and trumpets ablaze, or will they simply issue their commands through your false prince!" It was more a statement than a question, and Loghain kept speaking regardless. "Just how much Orlesian gold does your loyalty buy these days? How much Ferelden blood will you spill before you are satisfied?"

"What do the Orlesians matter at this point, Loghain?" Adrian would have to convince the nobles here that he was right, not Loghain. Not an easy task, considering his position. "You threaten our lands and our livelihood fighting this petty civil war! The true threat is the darkspawn, not some presumed suspicion of Orlais! I fight for Ferelden, and I do so with the duty of both a Ferelden citizen and a Grey Warden!"

Loghain paused. Adrian hoped it was with surprise at his oratory abilities, but he knew it was more likely thought about what to say next, how best to uproot the basis of Adrian's position.

"Me and my Arling know this well enough!" A voice popped up from the landings above Adrian. He nearly fell over in relief. Someone was speaking up for him. "South Reach has fallen because the army was too busy fighting itself than darkspawn! My people are dead, dying or fleeing. Why must this continue?"

"You have my sympathies for what happened, Arl Bryland. South Reach was impossible to salvage because of its proximity to the source of the darkspawn horde. To send an army there would be suicide. It am deeply sorry, but I have done what I must to secure this nation's freedom."

"What you must? Does doing what you must include enslaving your own citizens?" Adrian raised the papers Caladrius gave him. Of course, he said nothing of the blood ritual. "Slavery is illegal, Loghain, and you continue to act like you are above the law!"

"Slavery?"

"What does he mean?"

"That paper has Loghain's seal on it!"

"What is the meaning of this, Loghain?"

"No man can sell another! Andraste herself forbids it!"

The hall erupted in the shouts of the nobles. Loghain backed away a step, caught off guard. He waited for a moment, waiting for the outrage to die down, and spoke.

"The elves...could not be saved. Should Denerim be occupied by darkspawn the place wouldn't even be defensible. The elves lay dead or dying from the plague, and I needed funding for the civil war instigated by the Wardens!" He paused. "Despite what you may think, I did what was necessary for my country! The elves could not be saved!"

"You collaborated with blood mages, sending one to poison Arl Eamon in his own castle!" Adrian's face was a fraction of an inch away from Loghain, and the mage was shouting now. "Your actions set off a chain of events that nearly spelled doom for Arl Eamon's family and the entire village of Redcliffe!"

"Blood magic?" A noble from the landing gasped. "What proof do you have of these claims?"

"Is there any more proof necessary than the near-destruction of Redcliffe?" Arl Eamon spoke up. "You tried to eliminate me, eliminate your opposition. It has failed, Loghain, and you will pay for your crimes."

"Loghain, dealing with maleficarum is explicitly forbidden by Andraste's teachings!" The Revered Mother of the Denerim chantry stood now, angered. "The Chantry will not allow it!"

Adrian could not help but feel the irony of how Arl Eamon was, unwittingly, also conspiring with a maleficarum. That blood mage being Adrian himself.

"How is it that you know I have hired this blood mage, Eamon? For all we know you could have staged the entirety of the tragic events at Redcliffe!" Loghain smiled, knowing he had Adrian in a bind. "There is no explicit proof I have done what you say." Loghain seething. "But what of you, Grey Warden? What of the deals you made in the darkness, the murderer you released from the dungeons of Arl Howe's estate, the very same one responsible for the elven uprising a year ago as well as the one who murdered Arl Urien's son!" Rayne flinched. "And there she is! You dare bring a criminal to the Landsmeet? But can we expect any less from the very same Warden who murdered Arl Howe in his home!"

"Arl Howe imprisoned and tortured innocents, all to satiate his paranoia of threats to his power. I went there to rescue Queen Anora, and found this elven girl, brutalized by guards, tortured and beaten, then left to die. She is no criminal Loghain, and definitely not of your calibre!" Adrian paused, catching his breath.

"And what proof do you have of these allegations? How do you know she is innocent?" Loghain kept his face right in front of Adrian, close enough to smell his sweat, his breath. "And what of my daughter, the queen? You kidnapped her while she was visiting Arl Howe, killing her guards in the process! Ser Cauthrien was nearly killed in the collapse of the Arl's estate, all destruction caused by your spells, mage! Where is my daughter? What manner of brainwashing and brutality have you had her submit to? Does she even still live?"

Adrian had his tongue tied. He didn't have evidence of Arl Howe's treachery, and neither could he use Rayne as testimony, as she had just been accused of murder. Where was the Queen when he needed her testimony?

"I believe I can speak for myself, Father." There she was, the elegant, traitorous bitch herself. Adrian had to suppress his urge to spit when she walked into the room, so repulsed as he was by the Queen. That's why Adrian intended to depose her. After she gave them her support here, of course.

"Lords and ladies, Ferelden's fate lies in the result of this Landsmeet. We must unite to bring stability to the lands once and for all, and so that we can defeat the Blight in the south." Anora paused. "I...I believe the Warden's are misguided in their attempts. Loghain is the man we must entrust our fates to, for the sake of Ferelden!"

Again, she betrays them. Adrian sighed. He did everything he could, but apparently it wasn't enough for the queen. He offered the throne, he offered mercy for Loghain, he even expressed willingness to let Loghain keep his titles. Loghain smiled, smug from the results of Anora's entrance.

"Lords and ladies of the Landsmeet. Our land has been threatened before! The darkspawn is simply the current threat of a line of troubles stretching far into the past and far into the future! Ferelden has been taken and retaken, captured and rebelled, fought over times beyond measure! To fight this crisis we need unity, and I can provide you with that! The queen supports me! My armies will fight back the darkness! Stand with me, nobles, and we can triumph over even the Blight itself!" A strong speech. Even Adrian was awed by it, as were most of the nobles in the room.

"South Reach throws their lot in with the Wardens! My people are few and far between, and my voice is but the dying gasp of a once great Arling, but the Wardens are who I believe can pull us from this plight!"

"The West Hills stands with the Wardens. My Arling may already be overrun, but we will try as we must to support you. No man too afraid of the Orlesians to even raise an arm in defense of the darkspawn is worthy of power!"

"The Waking Seas stands with Loghain! He is the greatest general we have ever known, why abandon him now? He has proven time and time again that he is acting in our best interests! Our fate lies with him!"

"Dragon's Peak stands with Loghain. The Maker is testing us, and we are best to stand with the man who has already proven himself to be in His favor! This time is dark indeed, but Loghain shall guide us through it!"

"The Warden helped me personally...in a family matter. I stand with the Wardens!" Adrian recognized the noble who spoke, the father of a boy he had saved while working for the Crows. They had held true to their promise after all, despite Taliesin's attack.

"The South Bannorn stands with Loghain! We have no hope otherwise!"

A tie. What happens now? Adrian was on edge, seeing the smile creep up on Loghain's face as he backed away, edging closer to Anora and the throne. Adrian glanced at Arl Eamon, who had a nervous look on his face. What will Loghain try now?

"Lords and ladies, the Landsmeet has reached a tie. As tradition calls for, the current hierarchy of our political structure shall remain intact." Loghain smiled. "And to ensure that it does, Arl Eamon and the Wardens are hereby charged with high treason and conspiring against the throne." His voice lowered, filled with subtle mirth. "Guards, take them outside to await their execution." Fear gripped at Adrian. They couldn't die now, they were so close to victory!

"To arms! Defend yourselves! Loghain cannot be allowed to do this!" Arl Eamon shouted to his soldiers, drawing his own sword and shield. "Guards, to me!"

ooo

Human politics Rayne did not understand. A fight was simple, though. She had been awed by the spectacle at the Landsmeet, two powerful men, Adrian and Loghain, verbally combating each other. It was baffling and... unnecessary.

Now things spoke her language. She darted to her side, to an armored guard bearing Gwaren's crest, one who had yet to react to the fighting. Blightblood sunk into a crease in his armor, melting through some of the weaker chain links, driving into his torso, the corruption of the blade killing him instantly.

Rayne smiled. Now that was a blade she could be proud of.

She spun, hearing the patting of another guard approaching. She dropped to her knees, tripping him up at the last second, his sword arm going wide. Blightblood found his head, and removed it.

Now Rayne thought she was doing well in the fight so far, but when she turned to check on Adrian, what she saw nearly stopped her in her tracks.

Adrian had grabbed a nearby guard, pummeling him with electrical energy. When the guard lay dead, Adrian simply tossed the man aside, metal plating and all.

She wasn't glad to see it, though. It was the result of Caladrius' ritual, she knew. He had the strength of all the elves who had been sacrificed, their constitution, their skill. Was he even still human?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a crossbow bolt, fired from a guard standing atop the landing, coming so close as to scratch the surface of her chain mail. Rayne jumped, grabbing the bottom of the ledge, and pulled herself up quickly as possible. She cut through the wood railings with Blightblood, tearing the offending guard in half, splattering the nearby Chantry official with blood.

"Stop!" She shrieked. "Stop this madness now! Bann Alfstanna, you must help me! This bloodshed must be quelled!"

"Loghain! Arl Eamon! Both of you, call off your men before everyone is killed!" Bann Alfstanna shouted, her voice piercing the ears of every ear in the room, despite the fighting. "The Landsmeet has a history of non-violence! Are we to disregard all that we have ever fought for by dishonoring the memory of our past?"

"Men, stand down." Arl Eamon shouted. Obediently, his soldiers sheathed their weaponry, as did Adrian, Sten, Rayne and Alistair.

Loghain was not so quick to respond, but after staring at the nobles, each one splattered with blood from the fighting, each staring at him, waiting for him to command his soldiers off, he spoke.

"Very well. Men, sheathe your blades. There will be no more bloodshed today."

"We must settle this according to tradition. A duel. Two champions, each representing their side, must fight until one party yields." Bann Alfstanna spoke. Rayne wondered why the fighting was stopped so easily. She wanted more blood. Loghain had to pay! "Are these terms agreeable?"

Loghain spoke first. "They are. I shall fight as my own champion."

Murmuring among the nobles. Was it so uncommon for someone to fight their battles personally?

"We accept as well." Adrian spoke slowly. "As for my champion... I pick..." He paused, every breath in the hall bated, each waiting, wondering who would fight in his stead. "Myself."

ooo

"Maker help me, a mage." Loghain rolled his eyes. "I killed enough of your kind in the war against Orlais. Once you get past the spells, your flesh is just as soft and kill-able as any other." Loghain raised his blade. "You should've brought some armor."

Adrian smiled. Finally, a fight with the supposed mightiest man in Ferelden. It won't be easy, but Adrian was confident of his abilities, almost to the point of narcissism. He'd have it no other way.

"Yeah." Adrian shrugged. "I should have. Nothing to do about that now."

He leveled his staff, aligning it with Loghain's face.

They were both ready.

ooo

"Start!" Rayne watched the two men circle each other, starting when a noble told them to. Why did it have to be a fight she couldn't participate in? Damn. What if Adrian needed her? What if he died? She was worried, but now she didn't fight the feeling.

Yes. She was worried about a shem. Shem's made her life miserable. But she didn't care. She cared about Adrian. She wanted him to live.

But all she could was watch, gasp, hold her breath and hope.

ooo

Adrian ducked under Loghain's first swing, then pushed Loghain away from him using a forcefield. There wasn't much room to move around in. If he could get to a high place...no... he couldn't. The rules stated he could not leave the ring, no matter what.

"Shit." He jumped back, narrowly avoiding another swing of Loghain's sword. The man was fast, despite the armor, and very skilled. His reputation definitely was not exaggerated.

But Adrian had fought demons, mental conquerors more powerful than any physical warrior. He had killed legions of darkspawn, each faster and stronger than the average man. He had triumphed over a mighty high dragon, one who could crush Loghain without a thought.

Yet those accomplishments meant nothing behind the ever-chasing sword. All Adrian could do was block with his staff, duck or run. There was no time to cast.

How could he win against Loghain if he couldn't even get a spell off?

ooo

Rayne knew Adrian was in trouble, and her heart was racing as if to accentuate that point. She heard his muffled curses, saw the fear in his face.

She could hardly bear to watch, but could not tear her eyes away.

ooo

Adrian didn't have much of a chance, what with Loghain pressing him every step of the way. The man was a beast, never tiring, never slowing down. Adrian could do nothing but barely skitter out of harm's way.

If only there was some way, some trick, some distraction, something...he could use.

What was the point of it all? He was a mage, one highly praised by Irving. He was a Grey Warden, the only survivor of three people taking The Joining. He was a reaver, bequeathed of the ancient knowledge and memories of the Cult of Andraste. He was a blood mage, capable of controlling people through their minds, but he could not use that here. He was an abomination, master of a demon of Pride. He had the blood of elves within him, their power swirling inside, calling out in anguish at the capture of their souls.

He could hardly be called human anymore, it seemed, yet one man, one simple mortal, could stop him so easily. One warrior, one legendary general, could beat him down.

Adrian could not accept it. He was losing. The duel was swinging away from his favor. If he did not yield, Loghain will kill him. If he did yield, Loghain will execute him.

He had no choice.

He was going to die.

ooo

"Adrian!" Loghain's sword smashed into Adrian's staff again, splintering it. Soon it would break and the general would win. Rayne had to think. How could she help him? What could she do? Adrian couldn't die yet! He had to live for the Wardens, for the rightful king. For her.

He needed a real weapon, not just his staff, with which he could not even get off a spell. He needed... Blightblood.

"Adrian! Use this!" She unsheathed the scimitar and tossed it over the crowd of nobles in front of her. Loghain, temporarily distracted by it, let Adrian grab it up. He stood then, crouched slightly, Blightblood in one hand, staff in the other.

"Is this fair?" Loghain shouted at the mediator, the Chantry official.

"We will allow it."

Relief flooded through Rayne then. Maybe he had a chance. With her sword maybe he could win.

ooo

Okay. A sword. Now he had one more thing to block with. But what could he use a sword for? He was never trained for this!

Still, it bought him some time.

Loghain charged, shield leading, shouting. Adrian tried to jump out of the way, but was nicked by the force of the charge, spiraling him off balance. Loghain lunged at him, taking the opportunity presented.

Adrian brought up Blightblood just in time, the corruption of the sword melting a small piece off Loghain's sword.

Loghain jumped back, surprised. Adrian, finally seeing an opportunity, fell into spellcasting, drawing upon the power of the fade, of his demon. Just as Loghain was moving in for another strike, bluish energy tendrils erupted from Adrian's hand, enveloping and trapping the general.

"Thank you, Crushing Prison." Adrian kissed his staff. "You're trapped now, Loghain. Shall you surrender now, or should I just blast another spell at you?" Relief flooded through Adrian. He knew he couldn't lose.

"I...will...not...submit...!" Loghain's face was turning purple, his muscles tensing. He pushed, and Adrian realized his spell was bending, no, breaking under the force Loghain exerted upon it.

"Impossible." Adrian mouthed, just as Loghain freed himself, the spell reversing and sending out repulsing energy, knocking everyone in the room off their feet.

Adrian was up before Loghain was, and had backed away, standing in front of the throne, Blightblood's poison dripping, melting holes in the stone floor. Adrian's energy reserves were shot, his mana exhausted. He had expended all of his energy keeping the prison going, but now Adrian couldn't cast a spell even if he wanted to.

Fear gripped Adrian then, as Loghain stood slowly, swearing, struggling to stand. He was a monster. No human could break through a Crushing Prison. But Loghain just did.

Adrian could feel his legs trembling as Loghain walked slowly, ever so slowly forward, gradually increasing speed. He stumbled in his step, but kept his posture.

Loghain laughed, a deep, guttural, half-wheezing laugh, chilling Adrian to the bone.

The mage couldn't move. He was afraid of this man, the general. Afraid of death, which he knew was coming.

Adrian was defeated, he could do no more. Loghain's sword was raised, aiming for the killing blow, half-smile evident on his face. Adrian's death was at hand, doomed to fail so close to victory. He couldn't even shout for a yield, so great was his terror.

And Loghain collapsed, unconscious, body hitting the floor.

It was over as soon as it begun.

Adrian had won.


	8. Eve

**Chapter 8: Eve**

"The Landsmeet recognizes Adrian Amell, champion for Alistair, as the winner of the duel!" Applause rang out across the chamber, filling it. Adrian could see a few nobles simply staring at him, staring at Loghain. Bann Ceorlic had punched a wall, crying at Loghain's defeat.

Adrian could barely believe what had happened. Loghain had nearly won, having pushed him into a corner, broken one of his most powerful spells. Adrian could still vividly see Loghain's sword raised for the killing strike, only to fall as Loghain collapsed at the last minute.

"So? What shall Loghain's fate be?" Anora spoke as she knelt next to her father. Loghain was just beginning to return to consciousness.

"He will live, for now." Adrian wasn't sure what to make of the man. Was he an insane power-hungry man bent on getting power, or simply a general forced to make a hard decision? He would never find out if Loghain died, of course. Sure, Loghain nearly killed him, he sent out soldiers to hunt down Grey Wardens and his presence made fighting the Blight that much harder, but Adrian didn't want to kill him. He still recalled his private conversation with Loghain, back at Ostagar, back when things were simple. 'Mages are only not trusted by fools. So show them your power as a Grey Warden. Your order isn't legendary for nothing.'

"What? What do you mean? He's the one responsible for Duncan's death! He caused Ostagar!" Alistair was just deciding to speak up now. Figures he'd let Adrian do the hard part by winning over the nobles, only to complain at the end. "No. He has to die for his crimes!"

Adrian scoffed. Since when did Alistair ever desire someone's death?

"He's a brilliant general, Alistair. We could use him to fight the Blight." All of the nobles were captivated by the budding argument now. The fate of one of their heroes lay in the Warden's hands, after all.

"Adrian, his men have hounded us since day one. We can't accept him now." The mage sighed. He wasn't about to let Loghain die. He was still useful, and he loathed the idea of killing someone who had nearly beaten him in a duel. "He must be executed, or King Cailan's memory will forever be tarnished."

"There is another option." Riordan walked in, coming through the same entrance Anora had. "We induct Loghain into the Grey Wardens. He will be bound the darkspawn, just as we are, compelled to seek them out. Even if he was to forsake all and run for his life, he'd find himself in the Blight lands eventually."

"Sensible." Adrian had to admit it was a good idea.

"What? No! Don't tell me you're even considering it, Adrian!" Alistair was shouting now. "Joining the Wardens is a privilege, not a punishment! To induct him would bring shame upon the entire order. It diminishes all that we have fought for!"

"I say we do it." Anora spoke up. Adrian couldn't help but feel less inclined to perform the Joining on Loghain because she supported it. Damn, Adrian realized he hated the queen too much to be healthy. "If he dies, you have your revenge. If he survives, you have a general more capable than any to lead your armies."

"Riordan, Loghain had you tortured, you should sympathize with me!" Alistair was shaking with anger. "You can't do this!"

"We do what is necessary to stop the Blight, Alistair. You should know this."

"Fine. Then I officially leave the Grey Wardens. I will have nothing to do with them anymore if they have this...this regicide amongst their ranks." Adrian was shocked, and a gasp ran through the crowd. Loghain was just one man! Why was he overreacting like this?

"Alistair, don't take such a drastic step." Adrian hoped he could reason with Alistair. There had to be something he could say, or do...

"I can and I just did."

"Alistair, we had an agreement." Arl Eamon spoke up, gesturing towards Anora. "We had talked of a marriage, one that united the current Queen with the Theirin bloodline. Are you going to walk out on your promises now?"

A political marriage? Adrian didn't even know they planned that! Adrian was planning on deposing Anora. Did they keep it secret from him for that reason? Damn their politics! Anora didn't deserve the throne!

"I..."

"You have an obligation to this country, Alistair. To hesitate weakens the resolve of all Fereldens." Arl Eamon wasn't a politician for the prestige, it seemed. He knew the game well. "You will marry Anora. That is what was agreed upon, regardless of Loghain's fate."

Alistair held his tongue, every ear in the room captivated, waiting for a response, waiting for the result. What would happen?

"You know what? I...will marry Anora. But I hereby forsake all ties I have to the Grey Wardens. I am a Theirin now, nothing more and nothing less." Adrian was crushed. His own friend was abandoning him!

"Then let the Landsmeet recognize Anora and Alistair's marriage, and his ascension as King of Ferelden!" Arl Eamon shouted, massive applause breaking through the room.

Yeah. Loghain was alive now. But was Alistair a fair price for the general's life?

"With this union Ferelden has reached stability! All infighting with the army shall be called off, the civil war is over!"Anora, ever the clever orator, garnered another round of massive applause. "With my husband, King Alistair, at my side, we will lead the armies south to face the Blight! I appoint this Grey Warden, Adrian, to lead our armies. Ferelden, the time for the end of this war is upon us! We shall defeat these darkspawn once and for all!"

Virulent applause erupted then, drowning everything out. Shouts, cheers, even a few horns blasting out notes of celebration, music suddenly erupting from one corner of the hall.

A time of celebration, it seemed, before they marched off to war.

Adrian looked at Alistair. The King didn't look back.

It had all happened so fast, it seemed. Loghain lived, about the join the Wardens, Alistair was King and had left the Wardens... So much for friendship.

ooo

"Loghain has survived the ritual, Adrian. We will have our general after all." Adrian looked over to see Loghain and Riordan walk in the room. Riordan had a look of satisfaction on his face. He'd better be happy, considering what they had sacrificed to keep Loghain.

"The King and Queen have already left." Adrian looked away, towards the fire. He wasn't sure if he was even happy Loghain survived anymore. The man cost him Alistair, after all. "I'll send a message to them you are alive and well."

"Hardly well, considering."

Adrian sighed. Nothing seemed to turn out exactly the way he wanted to. He wanted Alistair to be by his side when he charged the Archdemon, to end the Blight once and for all. That would never happen now.

He looked away, out the window to a bright Denerim. Everyone was in the streets, madly celebrating while the army left the city.

"Are we departing with the main force?" Adrian wondered halfheartedly.

"Indeed. We're to go in a few hours time." Riordan backed out of the room, leaving Adrian and Loghain alone.

"You have my condolences for what happened between you and Alistair, Adrian, for what it is worth. I imagine that isn't much."

"I don't blame you, Loghain. Alistair was stubborn, too shortsighted to see beyond his own revenge."

"You would have preferred him over me, though. I understand. Regardless, I am a Warden now."

"Yes. Brothers bonded through the blood of our enemies." Adrian turned towards the general. He wasn't sure what to say. Should he hate the man? Respect him? Fear him? "I used to know exactly what that meant. Now I'm not so sure."

ooo

She was surrounded by them now. They were everywhere, farting, laughing, bending over, pushing, shoving, making so much noise. She could hardly stand it all. They were nothing but animals, it seemed.

Damn Adrian for making her wait here, in the middle of all these dirty... shems. So many of them, each one's detestable smile, damnable faces. She hated all of them.

Why? Because they caused her nothing but pain? What about Adrian?

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the contradictions. She didn't want to admit Adrian wasn't the only kindhearted shem out there. She couldn't. She mustn't.

Rayne resolved to empty her mind of the thoughts. All she had to do was wait for Adrian. If she had to wait in the midst of a battalion of rank humans, she would.

Adrian didn't come for an hour or so, and when he did, she couldn't help but smile, despite the haggard general that walked at his side.

ooo

"Help! Help! He-" The voice was cut off as quickly as Adrian had heard it. A glimpse of movement to his right, Adrian turned, only to see a man fall, arrow through his chest, a hurlock with a longbow running up behind it.

Darkspawn? In Redcliffe? Was the horde here? Did the Archdemon show itself?

"To arms, men!" Adrian called the soldiers at his back. "Rayne, come with me. We need to get to the castle to find the King! Loghain, lead the rest of the men!"

Nobody argued. Nobody made a sly comment, no witticisms shard.

Adrian realized he was commander now, their fates rested on his decisions. It was unnerving, how their lives rested on his shoulders. His decisions held an incredible amount of weight. A year ago he never would have thought he'd be standing here, commanding an army.

"Alistair, come with me!" Adrian stopped. Alistair wasn't here anymore. No longer a Grey Warden, the bastard decided to stay with the Queen and the rear guard. "Uhm...Sten! Oghren! To me! The rest of you, take back Redcliffe!"

Sten, Oghren and Rayne fell in step behind him as he ran to the castle. The bridge was empty, but he could see fighting in the courtyard.

Damn it all! They were too late!

Adrian launched a fireball at a nearby Genlock, incinerating it and a hurlock nearby. Rayne charged from behind, Blightblood and Fang twirling, shining in the dying light of the sunset. Her first swing tore a hurlock in two, the second left a trail of blood on an nearby genlock as if fell, thrashing and dying.

Sten charged at a hurlock alpha, swords locking, both foes equally unwilling to die. Sten feinted to his left, however, throwing the alpha off balance, opening it up for the kill. Asala tore through armor, flesh, bone, cutting the supposed mighty foe apart.

Oghren ran past all three of them, cheering, laughing and yelling as his warhammer crushed the nearest foe. His rage mounted, almost seeping off his Legion of the Dead armor as he crushed his foes with wild abandon, cutting swathes through the foes. Somehow the burly dwarf made it through to the other side, joining with soldiers defending the main gate.

Rayne followed through the line cut by Oghren, slashing whatever she could as she ducked and weaved through the crowd. As soon as she was through, Adrian summoned the might of a blizzard, felling nearly every remaining darkspawn in that crowd.

But the fight was far from over.

Adrian reunited with the rest of his group just in time to see an ogre alpha smash through the portcullis. It grabbed up a nearby soldier, biting his head off and tossing the corpse to the side.

"Adrian!" It was Ser Perth, running up to meet him. "That ogre was at the head of the attacking force. If we can kill it, it might halt the attack!"

Adrian didn't answer, instead running at the thing, hoping to grab onto it and use blood magic to fell it. He didn't get close, the ogre's mighty hand slapping him to the side. His lungs emptied upon impact with a nearby wall, pain wracking Adrian's body.

Rayne had charged as well, her blades slashing at the ogre's legs. Arrows dug into its chest, fired from archers on the walls, yet it would not fall. Sten and Oghren attacked as well, trying to force it into submission. Pain wracked Adrian's body. He probably had a cracked rib. Damn it all.

He stood, resisting the urge to fall unconscious. Leaning on his staff, Adrian launched another spell, one of Entropy, at the ogre. Adrian could feel the life being sucked from the ogre. Finally, it felt to its knees, pushed down by the weight of the combined attacks. Sten swung Asala, slashing deep into its neck. It clawed at its bleeding throat, helpless, dying.

And it fell.

Adrian stood, despite the pain in his ribs, lifting his arms, shouting along with the rest of the soldiers. From where he was he could see the town of Redcliffe, Loghain's forces quickly driving out the remaining attackers of Redcliffe.

Redcliffe was safe, for now.

ooo

Rayne had to help prop Adrian up as they were led inside by a soldier. The fight with ogre had cracked a few ribs and broken his right arm. Not a good sign, considering how close to the Final Battle they were. Wynne had hurried over, already trying to mend his wounds.

"Stay still, Adrian."

"Maker damn it all, Wynne, does your healing have to hurt so much?"

"It would be easier if you stopped moving around."

"We're kind of in a rush here!"

"Would you prefer I stopped healing? You can fight the Archdemon with four broken ribs and a broken arm just fine, can you?"

"...Fine." Adrian pulled away from Rayne, seating himself on an overturned bookshelf. Apparently darkspawn had gotten into the castle, causing some degree of damage, but had mostly been wiped out.

Adrian kept bickering at Wynne as she healed him, occasionally raising his head, face contorted in pain.

"Holy..." Adrian's mouth hung open as he moved his arm, twisted and gnarled as it was from the fight. The middle of his forearm was sagging, the bone brutally snapped.. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Fancy that." He waved the broken hunk of flesh around a bit, morbidly amusing himself. A nearby serving girl gagged.

Wynne sighed. "It means you're going into shock, child."

"Hey! Don't call me a chi..." Adrian's eyes widened as Wynne's hand touched his arm, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream, eyes wide open.

"Hurts now, doesn't it?" Wynne snapped the bone back into place, brutally, efficiently. Rayne had to admire her ruthlessness in healing, bringing Adrian close to tears from the pain.

A few minutes later he was moving his arm, perfectly healed, staring at it like some foreign entity, shadows of the pain still lingering in him.

"Now we do your ribs."

ooo

"Ah! Adrian! It's good to see you in one piece!" Rayne and Adrian slowly approached Arl Eamon, who was sitting on his throne, breaking from conversation with Queen Anora. Alistair was there as well, but wouldn't so much as look at them.

"You can thank Wynne for that." Adrian sighed. "I certainly won't."

Arl Eamon raised an eyebrow, curious, but continued. "We've received some...disturbing news about the position of the darkspawn horde. Riordan, if you may." The senior Grey Warden bowed his head.

"It was originally thought the horde was moving towards Redcliffe, hence our fortifications here." The elder Grey Warden's face went dark, his expression serious. "Unfortunately I... was wrong."

"What do you mean?" This wasn't good. Being wrong was never a good thing in war. It led to death, more often than not.

"The bulk of the horde is heading to Denerim, and our army will not make it in time to defend the city. Denerim...will fall." Riordan turned to the fire. "But that is not what is most important. The Archdemon has shown itself at the head of the horde."

"Maker..." King Alistair fidgeted.

"We must march to Denerim immediately to engage the darkspawn." Adrian spread his arms, accentuating his point. "This is our chance to end the Blight!"

"Agreed." Arl Eamon nodded his head. Riordan as well. "But it will take most of the rest of the night preparing the troops for the march. Adrian, I suggest you and your companions get a rest. You'll need it."

"If I may, I would request Adrian, Loghain and Alistair meet me in my quarters. We must discuss...something important." Riordan faced Alistair, his face still marred with seriousness. Why did the elder Warden seem to be so deep in thought?

"I am no longer part of the Grey Wardens, Riordan. Your business is none of my concern."

"You will want to hear this regardless, your majesty." Alistair looked angered, but finally just nodded.

"Fine. But it had better be important."

ooo

"Right, an' then, I...I...what was I going to say? Sod it all, I forgot. Oh! Right, an' then I smashed the blighter on the face with my warhammer, crushing 'is face. Blood went everywhere! Wahahahaha!" Typical Oghren, telling stories of past battles. Rayne only ever listened if they involved Adrian, but he was usually comical in his presentation, entertaining enough to captivate her. The drunken dwarf had a crowd of dwarven soldiers gathered around him, enthralled by his tales. "An' then I took the princess, she was really carved if you know what I mean," Oghren chuckled, as did the other dwarves. Rayne didn't understand. What did carved mean? Was she a statue? "an' I grabbed her hair, pulling 'er over a barrel. Then, I whipped out my sword..."

Rayne walked away then, blushing. What kind of story was he telling? Struggling to get disturbing images involving Oghren and "swords" out of her head, she started wandered the army encampment. Those who hadn't slept already were preparing for the next day, carefully packing away their memories in their satchels, positioning trinkets, canteens, smuggled food so that nothing was crushed and everything orderly.

She marveled at the golems, each of magnificent make, some of stone and others of steel. Rayne knew the price paid to create them, but still she found them beautiful and mysterious. Shale was among their ranks, hand placed on the chest of one, apparently deep in thought. Rayne realized with a start Shale was the only one without a control rod. The only one with a personality or independent thought.

She considered going to the golem, to talk to her, but was interrupted by another odd sight. Leliana was singing in front a crowd, playing a lute and dancing to a lively tune all at once. Such fluid movements, practiced abilities. She was so skilled, making all that she did seem easy.

It was almost peaceful, if one ignored the threat of a looming battle.

Rayne joined the crowd gathering in front of Leliana. Dwarves, Dalish elves, mages, each bonded by this simple performance, each one possibly going to their deaths on the morrow.

In a way, Rayne loved it. She no longer feared the shems, she knew. And it almost felt as if she could forget her hatred, if only for that night. If they were capable of such joy, such ability, such genuine emotion, then maybe they weren't so horrible after all. No soldier looked twice at a Dalish, or mage, and no Dalish or mage looked twice at them.

The army was in unity. Beautiful, harmonious unity.

"Uhm... excuse me." Rayne turned, tapped on the shoulder by a shem. Her first instinct wasn't to attack, to yell, to fight, like it usually was. "You know Adrian, right? My name is Jowan, maybe he's mentioned me?"

Jowan... Jowan... She had heard the name before, in one of Adrian's tales of the Circle of Magi. He was a blood mage, one who had been sent back to the Circle after the events surrounding Redcliffe. He was Adrian's friend, a former comrade in arms. Any friend of Adrian's was a friend of hers, Rayne figured. Except Alistair, of course.

"Yeah. You grew up with him. He said he helped you escape from the Circle Tower, just before he was recruited into the Wardens."

"I was...uh...wondering if you could tell him I'm here. Tell him the Circle decided to allow me to live and that I'm no longer considered a blood mage." Blood magic. Rayne never truly understood why, but through her entire life she had always been told blood magic was wrong, that magic itself was abhorrent. Yet Adrian was a mage and more yet still retained his humanity. This Jowan was also a blood mage and he certainly didn't seem like a monster.

"Certainly." Rayne smiled at him. Jowan was an okay sort. No sense being mean to him.

"Right, uh, thanks. I'll just be... going now." The nervoud mage left quickly, tripping over some soldier's knapsack, apologizing profusely, then running off towards where the bulk of the mages were camped. Rayne couldn't help but laugh, a light, jolly expression of pleasure. She was content.

Such a peaceful night for the eve of the Final Battle.

Tomorrow everything would be settled, the Archdemon slain, the Blight over. Her life would finally be peaceful, Rayne thought as she sauntered off back to Oghren. Maybe he was telling a less vulgar story.

He wasn't. But she listened anyway.

ooo

Adrian was the last to arrive at Riordan's room. Alistair and Loghain were leaning against opposite walls in the hallway, staring at each other. Alistair's anger was evident on his face. Loghain's was blank.

"Nice to see we're all so cheery!" Adrian smiled as he grew closer. "Have a nice heart-to-heart talk, did you?"

Loghain stared at Adrian for a second, looking like he had something to say, but instead opted to walk into Riordan's room without a peep. Alistair followed after Adrian, muttering under his breath about the injustice of being in the presence of a man he despised.

"Ah, good. The three of you are here at last." Riordan was standing in front of his fire, not even turning to confirm the three had actually entered the room. "In the time of the first Wardens, we drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint. Ever since we have always been a part of them, just as they are a part of us. As long as darkspawn exist, so do the Wardens. We are needed, for only we can end the Blight. But do any of you know why?"

"It's an exaggeration, of course. No single order of warriors is needed to combat anything, darkspawn or no." Loghain, ever the realist.

"Alas, if only that were true." Riordan turned. Adrian noticed just how old the man seemed then. His black hair was graying at the edges, creases evident in the skin of his face. He was as old, if not older, than Duncan was. If so, that meant he was probably near his Calling. "When any ordinary person strikes the killing blow on the Archdemon, its soul simply flows into the nearest darkspawn, twisting the soulless vessel into its own image, reforming itself anew, and just as hard to kill."

"Then how do we kill it?" Adrian asked.

"Short of eliminating every darkspawn in existence, one by one, in which case there would be no blight threat, the only way is for a Grey Warden to strike that final blow." Riordan paused. "I apologize for not telling you earlier, but what I am to tell you next is something I had assumed you already knew. It is also the reason I propositioned that Loghain be inducted into the order." Riordan breathed in deeply, preparing himself for what he had to say. "If a Grey Warden strikes the killing blow, the soul of the Archdemon flows into the Warden, both souls struggling to gain control of the body, destroying themselves in the process."

"Then...the Grey Warden who kills the Archdemon...dies as well." Alistair voice was but a gasp. Loghain showed no reaction. Adrian...wasn't sure what to think.

"Then if you wanted me to take the final blow, I shall do it." Loghain spoke with no hesitation, catching the other Wardens off guard. "If I am to ever seek the atonement you wish of me, then I shall die defeating the Blight."

"No! You'll be hailed as a hero! You cannot do this! I won't let you." Alistair took a step forward, menacing look on his face. Loghain showed no reaction still.

"Will you die in his place, Alistair?" Adrian didn't mean to sound so cold, but he got his meaning across. "No matter how it turns out, one of us four will die. Sounds like there isn't any avoiding that."

"As the senior Grey Warden here, I shall kill it if I manage to survive that far." Riordan stared at the three of them. "Alistair, you have a kingdom to look after. Loghain, you can find your atonement elsewhere, in service to the Grey Wardens. And Adrian," Riordan face him, eyes bright with understanding. "Rayne would not want you to die, would she? You should survive, if only for her sake." Riordan sighed. "But despite that, if I cannot make it, one of you three will have to take that blow. As Wardens, our titles, social standing and past actions mean nothing. No matter who we are, we have a duty to ending to Blight. One cannot simply walk out on that." Riordan had obviously aimed the comment at Alistair. "No matter what, you will always be drawn back in."

Alistair dipped his head. Adrian could almost sympathize, torn between duty to the Grey Wardens and hatred for Loghain. "I may have a kingdom to run but... I will help you find the Archdemon, even if I must fight with Loghain. But I'll be damned if you ask me to respect him."

Adrian had to admit he was proud. Alistair was finally learning to put his emotions to the side, to make judgments based upon situation and not feelings. It would aid him greatly being king, if he survived, of course.

"Good. Now, I imagine all three of you are tired, yes? Considering the levity of what I have just told you, sleep will not come swiftly, but you must try. You will need your energy."

The Wardens left Riordan, each heading to different rooms, different lives. One an unprepared king, the other a traitor, the third an abomination.

Adrian couldn't help but laugh. Ferelden was in the best of hands, now wasn't it?


	9. A Dark Choice

**Chapter 9: A Dark Choice**

"Ah, Morrigan." Adrian approached her slowly, somewhat surprised she had decided to come to his room. "Finally decided to admit your undying love for me? What? You want my body? Now? But with my innocent sensibilities and all..."

"Don't bother with jokes, Adrian." Morrigan still didn't face him. Her voice lacked the usual biting edge, though. What was her purpose here? "There is something we need to discuss."

"About?"

"I know of the sacrifice you Wardens have to make, the death that comes to whomever strikes that final blow." Mildly surprised, Adrian listened intently. Morrigan pivoted slowly, walking close to Adrian. Something about her demeanor was...off. "I can offer a way out. A loop in your hole. An escape."

"What?" A way out? A way out of death? Sure, that was appealing, but knowing Morrigan, there had to be a catch.

"It requires a... ritual. One performed in the dead of night, on the eve of the final battle." Adrian narrowed his eyes. Morrigan's rituals didn't exactly seem appealing to him, considering what he had found out about Flemeth. "Consider it a thanks for killing Flemeth for me. I can save your life in return, just as you had saved mine."

"But what is the ritual? What do we do? Slaughter children? Drink goat blood? Go on killing rampages? Deals with demons?" Most of his responses were sarcastic, but Adrian couldn't help but feel that Morrigan wasn't above any of those. A fear suddenly gripping his chest, he hoped Morrigan wouldn't actually ask him to do any of those. She wouldn't. Would she?

"You have to...lay with me tonight." Lay with her? Did she mean sex? Well, it had been awhile since he last... and Morrigan was fairly attractive, though he didn't feel any sort of emotional attachment to her.

"Is that all?" Sleeping with her was easy enough to save a life, it seemed. Of course, Adrian knew there had to be some other detail she hadn't yet told him.

"Our bonding will create a child. When you strike the final blow, the Archdemon's soul will not pass through you, but to your offspring. It would be young enough that its soul had not yet been entirely formed. It will absorb Urthemiel's soul, capturing the power of the Old Gods within itself."

"So...I'll have a darkspawn kid?" Adrian couldn't admit he liked the idea much. "Will I ever see it? You know, raise the little Blighter, except...literally? Oh! Can I make lil' Hurlock call me Daddy and whatnot? Oh! I'll be so proud when he tattoos his face to mark his first kill!"

"Can you please stop joking? This is serious." Morrigan sighed, trying to calm down. "No. You will never see it, but neither will it be a darkspawn. It will be... something else entirely. I am not certain what. As soon as the Archdemon lies dead, I will leave. Forever. You will never see or be bothered with by the child. I shall deal with it."

"Something else? What do you mean? And how do I even know if the ritual will work or not?"

"You'd have to trust me." Trust Morrigan? Hah! That's a good one. "Either way, if I'm wrong then someone will die anyway. This is your only option to have a chance at keeping everyone alive."

A convincing argument for Adrian. He wanted nothing more than to stay alive and to keep those around him from dying. But still...could he do this? Would it even work?

"I don't know..."

"Then think of the advancement in magic it would bring. It's something that had never been done before, something that can change the shape of Thedas." Morrigan sat on the bed, almost invitingly. "You're barely human yourself anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a mage."

"No shit."

"You're a Grey Warden."

"Just here to state the obvious, Morrigan?"

"The last reaver."

"You were there when I drank the dragon's blood. And I guess I am the last, considering I killed Kolgrim right after. Still, what about it?"

"You carry the souls of elves within you."

"Oh, right. Caladrius' ritual. Such a wonderful thing to bring up. Yes! Go right ahead and depres me with gruesome images of my past! That'll convince me!"

"You took the soul of an Arcane Warrior within you, as well."

"Hey! The orb thingie wanted me to!"

"You're a blood mage."

"Now that is surprising. When did you figure it out?" Adrian knew Morrigan wouldn't care about him being a blood mage. If she knew, she had known for awhile.

"'Twas obvious. You fight like one. You control their blood, you feed off their life. I'm still surprised none of your other companions noticed. Especially Wynne."

"I'm still human, despite all those things."

"Not by much, considering you're also an abomination."

The words hit Adrian hard. How the hell did she know? Would she try and blackmail him into doing the ritual with her? What was she trying to pull? Being an abomination was much worse than being a blood mage, he knew.

"What are you talking..."

"Don't try to lie, Adrian. I know the truth. You think me a fool?" Morrigan stood, close to his face. "I lived with Flemeth my entire life. I know the stench of demons, especially one of Pride. You're different, though. You aren't like my mother, heart eaten away by darkness. You have your humanity still, and that makes you...interesting."

"I'm interesting, am I?"

"You being an abomination, combined with all the other forces within you, the blood you've choked on, the souls you've absorbed, makes you less human than even me. Possibly even Flemeth, though I know not for certain." Morrigan smiled slyly. "And that's why you're the perfect candidate for this ritual. Just think, Adrian, of the possibilities. An old god's soul mixed with an abomination's son."

"How appealing."

"But enough of that. You perform the ritual now, and when you strike down the Archdemon, you will be saved. Nobody needs to die. Do you accept?"

It was sudden, Adrian knew. What would she do with the child? Why would he never see the child? Too many questions, but he felt he did not want to know the answers.

"I...do." Morrigan smiled. Possibly the most genuine one she'd ever given him.

"Very well then." Morrigan slyly sauntered to the door, closing and locking it. "I assure you that it will not be unpleasant."

"Forgive me if I close my eyes in horror."

ooo

"Tell me, Rayne. What did Arl Howe do to you in those dungeons of his?" Loghain leaned against a bookshelf, alone with her in the library. She hadn't planned on being here like this, but Rayne couldn't track Adrian down. It was almost as if something was...preventing her from finding him. She had stumbled upon Loghain in here after searching for an hour, and decided to stay. The shem had impressed her at the Landsmeet, and if she was to be shedding blood with him, she might as well know him a bit better.

"His men tortured me, starved me, tried to rape me..."

"Tried?"

"I snapped one guards neck with my feet. They didn't try too hard after that."

"An interesting technique." Loghain paused, his face tilted upwards slightly, staring at the ceiling, yet Rayne had the uneasy feeling he was still looking at her. "I met a woman like you once, long ago."

"A woman like me?" Rayne scoffed. "Not possible."

"Her name was Nirzemma, a former Dalish. I had recruited her in the Night Elves that I led back during the rebellion. She had your spirit, your fire. I knew she would go places."

"Did she?" Rayne knew little of the rebellion, but she had heard of the Night Elves, skilled archers Loghain had recruited personally from within the rebel army.

"She was captured, raped and killed by members Orlesians." Loghain stared at her. In a way the man unnerved her. His presence was powerful, the type of man who'd walk into a crowded room and have it fall silent. The type to inspire armies, to lead them to victory.

"Pleasant. You remind me of someone as well." Loghain cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "Except he's still alive."

"Who? If you would bother to tell me."

"Adrian. You two are very...similar. Intelligent, commanding and willing to make hard choices." Rayne held no love for Loghain, but bore him no ill will either. He wasn't like Alistair, who would throw away a good opportunity for the sake of emotion. "Of course, you're old. Much older than he is."

"Yes. I am, despite my experience he defeated me at the Landsmeet. I'm also much older than you, girl." Loghain smiled, a kind of half-smirk that Rayne found intriguing. Why would he only smile halfway? "Pity how youth is wasted on the young."

Loghain left after that, retiring to his quarters to sleep, somehow, before the march and battle ahead. Rayne couldn't help but feel that Loghain was much more complex a man than Alistair believed. He wasn't evil, he bore no malice towards Adrian or Alistair, even being beaten by them. Loghain was no simple villain.

Rayne trudged up to her room sometime later, letting sleep overwhelming her, thoughts focused on the battle ahead.

ooo

When Morrigan was finished, she simply pulled her clothes back on and left the room.

"Not even a breakfast, or an awkward conversation, or...or...or nothing." Adrian sighed as he struggled to pull his trousers back on. "Like a prostitute, except I did it to save my own life."Adrian laughed at that. Morrigan definitely would not like to be compared to a brothel girl.

He somehow felt weird about things now. Adrian sighed, lying back down on his bed after relighting his candle. So now all that he had to do was kill the Archdemon, a giant half-darkspawn, half-dragon thing that controlled an entire horde of monsters with its own mind. Simple enough.

Oh wait.

He had to admit there was something...strange about how Morrigan figured him out. She described him as not even being human anymore. Was he? Could Morrigan be right? Did being an abomination mean that he no longer could be called a person? Why? He felt normal, acted normal, he didn't go on insane killing rampages like Uldred did...

Adrian stretched his hand out, examining it in the candlelight. It certainly looked human, but then again, Uldred looked completely normal before he transformed into a demon. Wait! Could that mean he could transform as well?

The mage sat up, delving into his mind, touching the Fade. He could feel the familiarity of the spells he knew, but nothing of transformation. Dissatisfied, he broke the connection and laid back down on the bed.

Maybe it was simple shapeshifting that allowed Uldred to transform? Alas, only Morrigan knew how to do that, and Adrian never bothered to ask about it.

Might as well give up any hope of turning into animals and whatnot, then. Pity. It would have been useful to turn into a High Dragon like Flemeth could.

Adrian let his mind wander, like he did in Ostagar on the night before that fateful battle with the darkspawn. He thought of his journey, and not for the first time, either. Memories of Jowan, of Irving, and his time at the Circle of Magi, clawing at the back of his head, beckoning him to recall his journey.

He thought of Alistair, Daveth, Ser Jory, and the deaths of the latter two, of Lothering, wondering how the various inhabitants acted in their final hours, a twinge of regret enveloping him when he thought of how he could have stayed to fight. He though of Lanaya, in the Brecilian forest, completely oblivious to how Adrian had killed both Witherfang and Zathrian in the ruins. He thought of Caridin, pushed into the river of magma by Sten during the fight with him. Adrian thought of Lord Pyral Harrowmont, his blood pooling on the Assembly Hall floor, of the Urn of Sacred Ashes, defiled and corrupted by his own hand, for no reason whatsoever, of the High Dragon he slew, of Brother Genitivi, foolishly believing he had discovered a holy urn. He thought of Uldred, the man Adrian once respected, slain by his own hand, of Isolde and Conner, two people he had managed to save, with the help of the Circle Mages.

He thought of the Crows, of the Collective of Mages, of the dead Raelnor and his Blackstone Irregulars, of all the experiences that him to this point.

He thought of Rayne, Sten, Oghren, and all of his companions that helped him get to this point.

Adrian fell asleep soon after, candle still blazing, basking in his memories, hoping that all he had ever known would not simply be destroyed in the final battle.

ooo

"Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde! They are mighty and large in number, but fear them not! This man, this mage and Grey Warden, has sacrificed more than any of us could dream to get here, to get us here, to bring Ferelden back to its feet to stop the Blight!" Anora's speech roused thunderous applause from the gathered soldiers. Adrian noted with some satisfaction that Ser Cauthrien stood at the front line, appearing eager to fight. "These monstrosities threaten our lives, our homes and our country, but we shall drive them out, once and for all!" Another round of cheers. "We will fight to our deaths defending this land! For the Grey Wardens!" Cheers, banging of weapons, restless feet pawing the earth. Anora lifted her hands to her mouth. "For Ferelden!"

And they charged.

ooo

Rayne led the attack alongside Adrian and Riordan. She realized with no small amount of nervousness that the entire army was at her back. If she so much as tripped, she'd be trampled, flattened under the feet of her own allies.

Not a pleasant thought.

Of course, worrying in the face of danger rarely made things better. She drew Blightblood as she ran, pointing it towards the heart of the nearest darkspawn she saw.

Their lines collided, Rayne was crushed between the first darkspawn shield and the man behind her, each side trying to push the other back. Swords flailing, there was hardly any killing down with all the compression.

She closed her eyes, blackness clawing on her vision. If she opened them, she'd only staring into an ugly Hurlock face.

Before its head got taken off.

Riordan's sword twirled expertly, killing another Alpha that crossed in front of him. Rayne, now free of her prison, ran forward still, hoping to find more enemies to kill.

The gates, the main entrance into Denerim, was in chaos. Darkspawn defenders lined some walls, firing arrows down upon the army. Rayne watched in horror as two soldiers, each to her sides, were cut down by bolts from some darkspawn crossbow. Ferelden men were run through, crushed, stampeded, bones broken, bodies flailing. Darkspawn suffered no less, their corpses lining the ground, tainted blood spilling across everything.

So this was war.

It wasn't all grandeur and honor like the tales she heard from Valendrian as a child. This was real, brutal, visceral combat. It was kill or be killed. Move fast enough to hope you aren't struck down by an arrow, and most often you weren't.

And Rayne had no intention of dying. The darkspawn she fought found that out soon enough, as one by one they were beheaded, chopped in two, limbs flying detached from bodies. It was terrifying, it was bloody, dangerous.

She loved it.

ooo

The first thing Adrian did as he charged the darkspawn lines was enact a shield around himself. No arrows needed to find his heart, after all.

They could do that to other, less fortunate soldiers.

Adrian couldn't help but laugh as he cut down the nearest hurlock. He was finally here, finally at the final battle.

The darkspawn defenders were driven out under the army, chased into the city by the Ferelden's. The first attack was successful, now they had to take the inside of the gates courtyard.

Adrian realized after taking his first step into Denerim that it would all end soon, for better or for worse. It was either him or the Archdemon.

And Adrian wasn't planning on dying.


	10. Losing Control

**Chapter 10: Losing Control**

The first darkspawn died silently, pain evident on the twisted monstrosity's face. The second screamed and thrashed, refusing to die like it was supposed to.

The third nearly killed her. Rayne paid it back tenfold.

It was chaos, utter chaos. Soldiers, darkspawn, faces she knew, faces she didn't, all fell around her, lying in the blood and dust covered ground, eagerly awaiting death so the pain would end. Rayne stayed alive. She stayed upright.

She refused to lie down and meet the Maker. If worst came to worst, she'd fight Death itself.

Rayne laughed. That's right. She didn't believe in the Maker. Human gods held no sway over her. What about Dalish gods? Were they bullshit as well?

Then what would she fight when she died? She pondered whilst slicing the head off a genlock, blood gushing, squirting from the open wound. Would she fight demons? Spirits? Would she not even realize it?

Was there even an afterlife?

Pointless questions, it seemed, in the face of this destruction. Why question Death when it was knocking on your door? It would come, swiftly and silently or blatant and obvious. Entirely unexpected or gladly received.

For whatever reason, she preferred the latter.

Maybe she was a masochist. No. That didn't sound right. A sadist? Well, she did like killing, but that was beside the point.

Then what was the point? Another hurlock died from Blightblood, another shriek, a genlock next. Maybe she'd go after the ogre nearing her?

Too much thinking. She shouldn't think, it would distract her, but she couldn't help it.

Rayne thought of the Alienage, her former life, now a cast-off and rejected memory. She didn't need it. She had Adrian.

The mage, a maleficarum and abomination. She didn't precisely know what those two things were, as sheltered as her life was in the Alienage, but she knew the Chantry hated them.

If human gods hated them, an enemy of her enemy was a friend. Abominations and blood mages were her allies, then. That was fine with her. Then what about darkspawn? Did the Chantry not also hate them?

No. The humans put these dark creatures on a pedestal. They worshiped the monstrosities as a visual representation of all they had done wrong, thus, they were not an enemy to the Chantry. They were actually a good way of keeping people in line.

Another Hurlock.

It was almost mindless, this killing. Run, stab, slash, duck for cover, jump, slice, run, flee, slash. Her actions came automatically, honed skills that she did not control.

Her mind had no power, only her blades.

At least that allowed her to think.

Beating. Why was her heart racing? She was thrilled, terrified, angered and at peace, all at once. This battle was a blur, her hands working circles in the air as her blades brought doom upon her enemies.

And all at once, it was over.

"The gate is ours!" Cheers. She slowly came back to reality, she realized she was breathing hard, her heart pumping faster than she would have thought possible, her hands trembling, blood flowing down in rivers, pooling at her feet. Why was there so much blood on her? A hand was on her shoulder, firm and comforting. A voice. A voice, she heard, but she couldn't make it out. Ray... Ren? Ryn?

"Rayne! Snap out of it!" It was Adrian. Why did he seem so concerned? Why the urgency in his voice? Oh. She was bleeding. Badly.

Fuck.

ooo

"Rayne! Are you okay?" Obviously she wasn't, but Adrian still asked. A crossbow bolt was lodged in her shoulder, blood nearly spurting out. It probably had hit a major artery. "Maker, it's worse than I thought. Healer! Healer!"

Rayne was wobbling now, enough blood being lost to make her weak on her feet. Eventually she collapsed. He still called for a healer, holding her in his arms while she bled out across the ground.

Eventually, Wynne came. She didn't speak, she only worked her magic, gesturing Adrian to move onwards.

He had to leave her here. What if darkspawn came? What if she died with him not there? What if...

"Adrian!" He jumped as a hand rested itself on his shoulder. It was Riordan. "We will need to assault the Market District soon."

"R-Right!" Adrian had to tear his eyes from Rayne to focus on the elder Grey Warden.

"I sense three darkspawn Generals in the city. Before we attack the Archdemon, we should kill them before confronting it. There's one in the Market District, one in the Alienage and another at the Palace." Riordan hesitated, seeing Rayne's condition. "I... will separate from you, to lure the Archdemon to the ground so we can properly fight it. Take only three others with you, the rest will have to stay behind to defend the gates." He gestured to Wynne and Rayne. "Both of them seem indisposed. I would suggest taking Alistair, Loghain and one other person, though the choice is ultimately up to you."

Why did Adrian always have to make the choices? Why couldn't someone else take up the mantle right now? Rayne was hurt! He had to stay with her!

But he couldn't. He had a duty to the Grey Wardens, a duty as the commander of the Ferelden Armies. His companions had started to gather around him, waiting for his next command.

"Alistair, Morrigan and Sten will come with me. If we have three Grey Wardens together, it may draw undue attention. Loghain, lead the defense of the gates. If you find an opportunity, take a strike force to confront the Archdemon and support me. If I fail it all depends on you. And make sure you keep Rayne safe."

"A sensible plan." Loghain smiled. "You have the mind of a tactician. A vast improvement over Cailan. I will do as you ask."

"Good. That's settled, then." Riordan turned, seeing the Archdemon in the sky, roaring, diving, commanding its horde below. "We must move quickly, lest we are overwhelmed."

There was no time for goodbyes. Battles were quick, brutal and the effects lasting. Adrian realized he had tears in his eyes as he led his three companions out of the Market District.

He prayed for the first time as he ran.

If there was a god, please spare Rayne.

If there wasn't... all he could do was hope.

Yet prayers never seemed to do anything.

ooo

Ogres. Everywhere.

The Market District was overrun with them, smashing buildings, squashing soldiers, collapsing houses. Adrian noted with grim satisfaction that the Chantry had been near demolished. The priests got what they deserved, their fear-mongering finally ended.

Wait. Didn't he just pray? And why would he be grateful to darkspawn?

Trivialities. He had fiends to slay.

And slay them he did. His magic tore one in half, another in thirds, one's arms were ripped off, another crushed by his magic. Adrian could feel his strength being sapped, his energy faltering with every magical bolt. But he couldn't stop.

He forced himself on, despite the weariness. The battle was just beginning! More darkspawn fell before him, carving a path between him and the general.

It wore the armor of an alpha, it fought like an alpha, but it was taller, stronger. It stunk worse too. Adrian charged upon seeing it, staff flailing wildly, breaking darkspawn bones, crushing faces, spells launched to fry his opponents.

He pivoted upon nearing the General, stepping back just enough to narrowly avoid an upward swing. The sheer speed of the air moved by the sword nearly upset Adrian's balance, almost killing him when the Alpha came back for a second strike.

Adrian pushed himself back from the swing using a force-field. He fell face first, but recovered in time to avoid a third powerful swing from the General. It was powerful, and they both knew it. The darkspawn kept pressing, forcing him back, reminiscent of his fight with Loghain.

Adrian's weakness.

Try as he might, the mage couldn't get a spell off, each time interrupted by an impending sword swing. Desperation mounting, Adrian dipped into Mouse's power. It would be okay if he only did it for a moment. Adrian felt something loosen within him, but there were other matters to attend to. The General kept pressing.

Wait. What was a mere darkspawn compared to Adrian?

That's right. Nothing.

Adrian, suddenly endowed with vigor he did not know he possessed, simply walked forward. The next swing came directly at his face, but Adrian's hand moved to block it. The forcefield he had cast held, the General struggling to break through. Its efforts were fruitless as soon as Adrian placed his hand on the General's plate armor.

Magic flowed into it, and Adrian took control. The General was forced back, compelled by its own tainted blood, a mere puppet to be used by Adrian.

Yes. That's what they were. Puppets. Every single one of them. The tainted blood that flowed within them was there for him to control. Adrian laughed, a twisted, disjointed chuckle quickly becoming too loud for comfort, a crescendo out of control.

The General snapped in half when Adrian willed it, its body broken, its life ebbing away. Where was this power before? This energy? This vitality?

Mouse had all this power, yet Adrian had not used it? What point was there in being an Abomination if he did not use the power the demons granted him?

Caution thrown to the wind, Adrian jumped, propelling himself magically into the air, landing atop a crumbling wall, his companions struggling to follow. He saw the Alienage. Brief memories flashed before him, but they were meaningless. Something of elves dying by his own hand.

They mattered not.

He propelled himself backwards, landing amongst his companions again.

"Adrian, this area is clear. And...how did you kill that General?" Alistair's voice.

"Oh, I just thought I'd have a bit of fun with it." It was fun. Very.

"Regardless of the amount of enjoyment you have while slaughtering your enemies, definitely not creepy, the Alienage is overrun. Isn't that where the next General is?"

"Right." Adrian ran ahead, companions following.

By the time he arrived the gates were already broken, the elves slaughtered or fleeing. Loghain had been right, the area was completely indefensible. He saw the general then, commanding its brood, using its own magic to set fire to the vhenadahl.

Adrian smirked. It formed a neat image, all the dead bodies, darkspawn with the flames in the background. Morbid, but beautiful.

Time to destroy it.

His first spell slammed a hurlock into a wall. The second caused a genlock to jump on the back of the nearest ogre, stabbing it many times before it fell backwards, crushing the genlock and bleeding to death itself.

"Effective." Muttered Sten, but Adrian barely heard. He was having too much fun.

This battle was almost easy! But where was the general? Had it run, scared of Adrian's power? He felt invincible, drawing upon the power of Mouse within him.

Indeed it had run. Adrian saw it climb on top of a stage, directing its horde to defend it. It knew it was going to die. It feared Adrian, and rightfully so.

Sten charged first, taking a hurlock in the shoulder, cleaving it through the its left hip. Morrigan's spells followed, and then Alistair, cutting swaths through the crowd. Adrian walked. Just walked.

A hurlock, somehow thinking Adrian defenseless, was grabbed by Adrian's blood magic, tossed onto the fires to burn and thrash and die. Next came a genlock, then a shurlock. Both died easily.

Adrian set his eyes on the Emissary General now that a clear path had been made. The darkspawn was cornered, its forces defeated easily by the Warden and his friends. The mage rushed forward, slamming his staff into the neck of the general before it cast a spell. He heard bones crack, but he followed through on a second strike, slamming into torso with enough force to beat his staff in two.

Pity. That thing was made of Dragonbone.

Adrian grabbed the General's face with his now-free hand, blood magic flowing into its body. It too, like the Hurlock Alpha before it, died brutally, arms and legs twisted by magic. Adrian grabbed up the dead Emissary's staff, almost feeling comforted by the taint covering it.

Another feeling of loosening within him. Soon, whatever it was would break.

Adrian didn't care. There were monstrosities to slaughter. Brutally.

He would have it no other way.

ooo

Rayne could barely open her eyes, but she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"There they come!"

"Darkspawn reinforcements!"

"Hold the line!"

"Archers, fire at my command! Dwarves, stay the line! I said STAY THE LINE! Steady. Steady!" It was Loghain's voice, that much she could tell. Where was she? Why couldn't she feel her arms? Or her legs? Where was she?

"Be calm, child!" Wynne. Why...? Rayne realized just then she had been thrashing in pain as Wynne healed her. "Maker, how many wounds did you have to sustain in that fight?"

"Where's Adrian!" Rayne sat up, examining her surroundings. She was in a building, that much was obvious. She could also hear fighting. Footsteps. The door busted open, Loghain standing there in his armor, sweating like a madman.

"Take the girl and get out of here. I fear the front line will fall."

"What will you do, Loghain?"

"I will stay and fight."

And before Rayne knew it, she was jostled out by Wynne and some other man she didn't recognize. She saw the battlefield once before she lost consciousness again.

Men lay dying, darkspawn standing over their corpses. Bann Teagan and Loghain led a charge to fight them back.

She fell into blackness again, not even knowing the outcome of the attack.

ooo

Adrian saw Riordan fall through open space, faster, faster.

Eventually the man disappeared behind buildings. Adrian knew he was dead.

Two Grey Wardens left, then, with the possibility of a third joining them. The odds weren't looking good, but Adrian kept hope.

As long as he was there, they would emerge victorious.

It was with this in his mind as he charged the nearest ogre, felling it with two spells. Even Sten was awed.

But it wasn't enough! He needed more power! He had a handle of soldiers with him and an army between him and the Archdemon.

He had to use Mouse more.

He dug into the pool of the demon's abilities more, power consuming his body. The vitality boost, stamina increased, his suddenly-sore muscles rejuvenating at his whim. Adrian knew he was overexerting himself, drawing upon too much of Mouse's powers, but it was necessary.

Anything to stop the Blight, right?

It was with this in mind that he charged the darkspawn, killing them viciously, felling ogres, shrieks, genlocks and hurlocks with ease.

Adrian had this capability within him before, why hadn't he used it before? He didn't need an army at his back! He could fell the Archdemon himself!

Pride.

Adrian stopped in his tracks for a moment, hand just crushing a hurlock skull.

What thoughts was he thinking? What power had he tapped into?

He had drawn too much power from Mouse, and the demon was influencing his thoughts. Adrian tried to quell it, but all he could do was push it back temporarily. Fatigue clawed at his muscles again, his step grew weary, his spells less potent.

By the time he reached the Ogre General, he had little strength left.

He had no choice. He had put himself in a corner.

Submit to the demon, or be kill by darkspawn.

The Ogre raised its club, preparing the crush Adrian.

ooo

"I'll make a deal with you, mage."

He was in the Fade...no...his own mind. Mouse was here, rearranging furniture like he owned the place, spilling drinks, farting.

"This is my mind. What are you doing? You can't move anything here."

"Not yet, no." Mouse smiled, seating himself in a leather recliner. He snapped his fingers, everything moving back to how it should be. "Nice quality. You know your cows, mage."

"Why are you not in your cage, demon?"

"A deal, as I said before."

"I will make no deals with you. Begone." That should have pushed it back, repelled by Adrians will. Mouse only smiled.

"I'm afraid you have no choice, and neither do I." He got up again, chair vanishing beneath him. "See, I'm in a tight spot, being trapped within you and whatnot. If you die, I risk a chance of going to hell right along with you. I don't want that."

"Hell?"

"Death. I know not what comes after this life, and I care not to find out." Mouse drew close to Adrian, holding his robes tight. "I have lived for millennium, and I have no wish to see that ended here."

"What do you want?"

"I can save you. Save your friends. Save Ferelden! All you have to do is let me in. Completely, not half-assed like you did back at the Circle Tower. Seriously. Uncool." Mouse's visage started shifting, going through various forms, some familiar and others less so. "I will defeat the Archdemon, using your body, so long as you do something in return."

"What do you want?"

"You. Of course. I want you, completely. We switch positions, basically. I am master and you servant. I use my own strength, drawing upon you when I need to."

"How appealing. I refuse."

"Wait! Wai-"

ooo

Adrian regained consciousness under the arms of the Qunari. It appears time passes when you delve into your own mind. Pleasant.

"Did I get hurt or something? Let me down!" Sten complied.

"You were nearly crushed by the Ogre. Why did you simply stand still?"

"Long story." Adrian looked over the palace, somehow cleared without him really realizing it. Funny how things like that happen.

"We need to get to the top of Fort Drakon!" Alistair ran up, sporting some minor wounds. Morrigan was close behind, also mostly unharmed.

"Hey! We're not dead yet! Fancy that!" Adrian smiled faintly, remembering the demon's words.

Adrian would not submit. There was no way he'd allow himself to be fully taken over by Mouse. He would defeat the Archdemon on his own.

"We're close, aren't we?" Adrian glanced at his companions again. All three nodded. Soldiers rushed by, running to Fort Drakon to confront the darkspawn amassed there, and the Archdemon at the top. Adrian winced as he recalled Riordan falling. Why didn't he care before? What happened while he was using Mouse's power? It didn't matter now, anyway. Whatever he did, it got them this far, and now the curtain was about to fall. The final scene was about to begin.

"It's time to end this."


	11. The Archdemon

_And here is the final chapter (aside from the Epilogue, which I am about the start writing.) I have every intention of continuing this story, by the way, I just need some time to decide what direction the sequel is going to take. I have a lot to work with, after all. My next story may or may not center on Awakening. I haven't decided yet. Anyway, enjoy the final battle with the Archdemon! I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it! Especially the latter half._

**Chapter 11: The Archdemon**

"This is Fort Drakon, but... Where are all the darkspawn?" Adrian pulled a sword out of a nearby Dragon Thrall, examining the empty room. The charge into the fort was hard enough, considering how little strength he had left, now he couldn't even use his magic. At least there were no enemies, but that didn't seem right.

Where were they?

They wandered through the halls, checking every room. None of the four of them knew how to navigate through the maze of rooms to get to the roof, where the Archdemon lay waiting.

"There is probably an ambush." The Qunari shrugged gruffly as he spoke, holding Asala ready.

"I agree with Sten." Morrigan examined a nearby broken statue of Andraste while she spoke. "Judging by the difficulty simply to get in here, the Archdemon is either conserving its forces or trying to trap us."

"It matters not. We have to kill it." Alistair, ever the one-track mind. "If we have to fight through an ambush, so be it."

"You'd like to die, then?" Adrian smirked, but his fake mirth felt like an ineffective mask indeed. "We have to be careful."

Adrian was tired, so tired. He had overexerted himself getting here, even while using Mouse's power. Maybe Mouse was trying to trick him, to lure him into resorting to the demon's power? Whatever it was, he had to stay alive...

He had to do it. For Rayne.

"Enchantment!" The voice sounded out, followed swiftly by a large explosion, the very foundations of Fort Drakon shaking.

"Maker!" Adrian started running forward. There was fighting ahead.

He forced open a door, only to be confronted by a mountain of corpses. Sandal stood amidst them, unmoving, smiling stupidly, as per usual. "What happened?"

"Enchantment!"

Well... that explained why they didn't find any darkspawn.

ooo

"I said stay still, child!" It was Wynne's voice again. "Maker, how could you have possibly sustained such wounds and stayed alive?"

Rayne opened her mouth in a silent scream. Having someone probe her open wounds with their fingers was not pleasant. She could barely think with such pain. All she wanted was for the pain to end...

But she kept seeing Adrian.

She didn't know why, but she wanted him to be there, comforting her. But no, he was off saving Ferelden.

Fuck Ferelden! Why wasn't he here!

"Stay still!" Wynne's magic was still flowing into her, but healing was just as painful as taking the wounds themselves, if not more.

"How...How is the battle?" She barely managed to blurt it out with all the trashing, incoherent in all the pain. Yet, she felt lucid. She found regularity in the pain as she tried to push it to the back of her mind, focusing on the world around her.

"It is stable, for now. I had to move you behind a building in the Market District away from the fighting, in case Loghain fails. The line holds, but no word yet on the fate of the Archdemon." Wynne stilled worked her fingers over Rayne's wounds, pain still coursing through her.

"Where...FUCK!" Her shoulder twitched violently as Wynne popped in back into place.

"Maker, how did you do that to yourself? Your knee, too." Another pop, another horrifying wave of pain. "What did you do in that battle? Your wounds are...ridiculous in number."

"I let...my body..control me." Rayne gasped, breathing hard. All she wanted was for Adrian to come and hold her, comfort her. "I didn't think, I just acted. It's easier... to kill that way." She wanted the pain to go away.

Wynne shook her head. "Intelligent fighting would save you quite a bit of hazardous actions. You aren't an Oghren, you know?"

Rayne almost laughed. She had seen the dwarf fight. Insane, destructive. Was that how she did it? It didn't matter.

But maybe next time, if only to spare her from this pain, she should be more cautious.

ooo

And there it was, purple and black splendor and all, blue flames spouting from its mouth, incinerating its enemies. Soldiers fell by the tens, their arrows and swords simply bounding off its armored skin.

Adrian sighed. There it was. Terrifying and powerful as he expected. Wonderful.

Sten charged first, sword swinging wildly while the Archdemon was focused on some other soldiers. His strike took a finger off, the dragon rearing up in pain, batting Sten away easily. The qunari flew several feet before slamming into a wall, head hanging.

"Morrigan! Get the ballistae! Use it against the Archdemon!" Morrigan didn't question, she just acted. Adrian ran to the Archdemon's far right while Alistair approached Sten, who just barely avoided a strike from a nearby Hurlock Alpha as he recovered from the Archdemon's blow.

Adrian ran to a ballistae, loading it quickly as yhe could with his trembling fingers. There were only a few other darkspawn on the roof, and none seemed to notice four new foes fighting their leader. The soldiers saw, though. Inspired as they were by the Warden's presence, they charged foolishly at the dragon, dying as it swiped, clawed and bit.

"No! Stay back! Don't use yourselves as bait!" Adrians screams were pointless. The soldiers took no note of his orders, as fervent as they were to see the end of the Blight.

Soldiers still threw themselves at the giant dragon, despite Adrian's protests for them to retreat. Some waved at him, knowing they were about to die, but not caring, faces giddy as they were torn apart.

It was a terrible sight, dozens of soldiers surrounding the Archdemon, each one willing to die for Adrian and his companions, just to distract it while they tried to get a good strike in.

Was it worth it?

Adrian knew it didn't matter. The goal was the Archdemon, but it wouldn't be easy.

He fired the first ballista bolt in synch with Morrigan. Both bolts collided on separate sides of the giant beasts body, cracks sounding in the air from the fire. The dragon roared in pain, before jumping into the air, landing on a few soldiers, its eyes focused on Adrian.

It charged.

ooo

"Rayne! Where are you going? You're still hurt!" Wynne tugged on her shirt, struggling to get her to sit down. Rayne didn't listen. She had to fight. She had to help Adrian, even if all she could do is hold the line at the city gates. She had made it as far as the Alienage gate before realizing she needed weapons to kill darkspawn with.

"Where's Blightblood and Fang?" Wynne stared at her, puzzled. "My blades!"

"I'm not telling."

"I need them!"

"No. You're not going out there while you're still injured, child. I won't let you."

"Just try and stop me. Adrian needs my help." Rayne's vision was blurry, her legs weak...but she had to do something!

"Will you help him if you die?" Rayne stopped. "You think he'll be happy to find out you perished because you were too foolish to receive treatment?"

"I...can't just sit here..."

Wynne sighed. "I did not want to do this." Rayne realized Wynne was casting a spell a second too late, a crushing force pressed upon her, holding her down. "I apologize, child, but I cannot let you go out there to die."

And that was it. Rayne was out of the battle. The elf girl sighed.

She could do nothing but wait.

ooo

The small tower shuddered as the bulk of the Archdemon slammed into it. The stone below Adrian's feet crumbled as the tower rocked from the blow. The mage barely managed to jump out of the way as a giant dark claw scraped the inside of the tower, looking for Adrian's heart.

"Shit!" Adrian ran out from the tower just as the Archdemon slammed into it again, narrowly avoiding another claw. The thing was near invulnerable, its scales blocking most attacks before they had a chance to hurt it.

A trumpet sounded. Dwarfs charged from the entrance to the tower, a few steel golems in the midst of the crowd. Reinforcements to help with the fight. Kardol lead the charge, his greatsword, Ageless, pointed forward as the Legion Commander shouted his war cry along with his soldiers.

Most dwarfs were simply pushed back by the giant dragon's bulk, but a few got some strikes in. Adrian looked on in morbid amusement as Kardol's sword got stuck, so the dwarf grabbed a shriek, broke its arm-blade off and started poking away with that.

Dwarves. Gotta love their determination.

Morrigan fired off another ballista bolt, then an ice spell. The Archdemon stepped back, bombarded by rocks thrown by golems, swords poking from dwarves, spells, ballistae bolts. It shrieked, a roaring, unearthly sound, shaking a dwarf off its tail, the man screaming as he fell off the side of the roof.

"Phalanx! Assemble!" Kardol's command was loud, even amidst the sounds of the battle.

Adrian had to applaud the dwarves for their effort, the golems for their strength...but... it wasn't enough. The Archdemon was hurting, but it wasn't dying.

They needed more.

Adrian knew what he had to do, but he couldn't.

He heard the whispers in his ears, the touch. Mouse wanted out, and it knew Adrian needed him. He dipped into Mouse's power again. He'd make no deals, but he could try to use the demon's power.

The cage containing the demon loosened again. There wasn't much time.

Feeling his energy returning, Adrian stared at the Archdemon. The insanity crawled through his skin, the bloodlust from the demon flowing through him. He relished it, the hubris, the abilities, the strength.

Who would be able to predict the end result of such an epic fight? An Archdemon with an army of darkspawn crawling out of the Fort to defend it versus an army of dwarves headed by...

An abomination of Pride.

He drew too much from Mouse, he knew, the demon was crawling into him slowly, taking away his sanity. If he lasted just long enough to kill the Archdemon...

Adrian jumped, propelling himself magically through the air, strengthening the impact as he slammed into the Archdemon's back, cracks running across its scales. The dragon roared, clawing at its back, jumping to another spot. Adrian dug his hands into the cracked scales, fortifying himself.

A rock from a golem slammed into the dragon just below where Adrian's leg held itself, shards flying across Adrian's face. The dragon still showed no signs of weakening.

Adrian slammed the Archdemon's scales with his staff, beating it until the wood broke, but the force behind the wood cracked scales, black blood pouring from the open wound. The mage stuck his hand straight inside, releasing his dark magic within.

He laughed, riding the crazed Archdemon as it bucked, weaved and jumped at Adrian's magic painfully spiking inside it. What an image this would form!

Maleficarum...Abomination... Insanity. Adrian knew Mouse was overcoming him, but he didn't care, as long as the Archdemon fell.

For that was all that mattered. The death of this monstrosity. The end of the Blight. If he had to lose himself in the process...

So be it.

The dragon charged towards some other soldiers, Sten heading them, but jumped up into the air at the last moment, propelling itself as high as possible with its torn wing. Adrian kept his hand inside the dragon's blood stream, blood magic struggling to overcome the beast as it spiraled upwards and then... downwards.

The Archdemon was diving now, unnatural roar bellowing, screeches echoing the cries of the dead and dying, filled with the power of the Old Gods and of darkspawn.

It crashed into the stone roof of Fort Drakon, tearing Adrian from his perch and breaking through the stone floor, crashing and flailing about as it struggled to climb out of the hole it put itself in.

A golem, seeing an opportunity, broke a piece of hewn stone from a broken tower and heaved it at the Archdemon's face, tainted blood splattering everywhere. The dragon grabbed at the construct, claws tearing the steel thing apart.

Adrian landed near Morrigan, who had cradled him from the impact with the ground somewhat with a magical shield. Expecting no thanks and receiving the same, Morrigan quickly moved off to Adrian's right, firing electrical bolts at the Archdemon from her staff.

"Why won't you die!" Alistair was slashing away at the struggling Archdemon as it tried to pry itself from the stone it had trapped itself in. The dragon snapped at Alistair, but he was either too nimble or too lucky, each strike from the Archdemon barely missing their mark as Alistair dug his blade into the Old God's side.

Adrian, still slightly dazed from his fall, pulled more power from Mouse, fueling his numerous spells launched at Urthemiel. It was screaming, now, thrashing in pain as it was bombarded from all sides.

Its claws finally found a hold to anchor itself on and it pulled itself out, struggling against the attacks from all sides. Adrian had to admire its strength, its unknowing resilience. Yes, it was a monster, but it was, by far, the most powerful one Adrian had ever fought.

The Qunari was batted aside easily, his strikes, normally capable of tearing a man asunder, simply bounced off its scales, only rarely finding a soft spot and causing the dragon harm. Morrigan, though a powerful Witch of the Wilds, lacked the power to quell the beasts' ferocity. Even Alistair, the Warden King, could not cause any worthwhile harm.

Adrian had to find the wound he had caused again. If he could pump more magic into the wound, it would hurt the dragon greatly.

He charged forward, jumping onto the dragon's leg, propelling himself up magically just fast enough to avoid a bite from the Archdemon. He landed just above its tail, which was violently swishing and breaking bones easily as it slammed into the various soldiers trying to get a blow in.

Adrian climbed up the dragon's back slowly, avoiding its fervent bites and clawing as he searched for the hole in its scaly armor.

He saw it, but the distraction caused by that discovery allowed the Archdemon to bat him off its back, throwing him onto the ground in front of it.

Adrian rolled to his left as the Archdemon's head came down, barely missing, teeth gnashing as it struggled to end the pesky mage's life. It roared in frustration, claws raking the ground as Adrian darted out of the way.

It bit at him again, head extending further than it usually allowed itself to. Sten took the chance, greatsword slamming into the creature's neck. Adrian could hear snaps as scales cracked under the weight of Asala.

Drawing his knife, Adrian closed in on the Archdemon again as its head turned towards Sten, hissing. It swung its neck back towards the mage just as Adrian raised the blade, imbedding the dagger up to its hilt in the dragon's eye.

Roaring in pain, the dragon reared on its back legs again, wings batting the air and some unfortunate dwarves as Urthemiel shrieked. Morrigan had found another ballista and fired a bolt straight at the dragon's underbelly, knocking it back, blood oozing from the large wound.

Finally, it was weakening. Cheers went up from the soldiers as they charged with renewed vigor at the sight of the major wound. The dragon was finally slowing, its attacks having less weight. Alistair chopped into the dragon's right shoulder when it fell into a bait by Sten, scoring another wound as the already weakened scales cracked under the force of the attack.

Adrian fired spell after spell, drawing upon Mouse's power further and further.

He was almost there, the dragon was almost defeated. Sten's blade found the Archdemon's neck again, striking in a spot near where his first attack went. The blade went home, gouging a deep gash along the dragon's neck. The Archdemon roared, but its strength was fading, its will weakening.

Now was the chance.

It was an unthinking move, pure instinct as Adrian charged at the dragon, picking up a fallen soldier's sword as he passed. Alistair had moved in for the strike as well, but Adrian cast a spell, throwing the Templar back.

"Adrian! No!" Alistair's cries were in vain, for Adrian heard him not. The mage swung the blade at where Sten had struck, widening the gash even further, slicing the dragon's neck open wide. Roaring one final time, the Archdemon fell, blood splashing as it pooled on the ground.

Adrian approached the head, blade held high.

It was time.

Alistair was shouting as he struggled to run towards the mage, Morrigan only smiled. Sten was near collapsing from all the wounds he sustained while fighting. Adrian glanced at the Qunari, and a nod from Sten told him all he needed to know.

Adrian plunged the blade downwards, entering into Urthemiel's skull, offering little resistance to the blade. Bright light shone up through the wound, shooting into the sky and dispelling the dark clouds that had gathered above Denerim.

He heard voices, some violent, others encouraging. He didn't know which were real and which false, Alistair was shouting, the soldiers were looking on in shock, Morrigan was walking away. The voices overpowered him, plunging into the deepest level of his consciousness.

Mouse was screaming now, thrashing inside of Adrian as the Archdemon's soul transferred itself into Adrian. The shouts were incoherent, mad ramblings from a demon in extreme pain.

Fear gripped Adrian then. Why was the Archdemon's soul flowing into him? It tore at his consciousness, ripping every fibre of his being.

Did Morrigan lie? Was the ritual false, a bait to lure Adrian into taking the final blow and kill himself?

His vision was blackening, even the white light erupting from the corpse of the dragon could not dispel it. He was hearing another voice, a stronger one now, was it Urthemiel? Or... something else. It was singing, rising above the din in his mind, a great calming sound, filling Adrian more. It was... almost pleasant to listen to the voice.

A song of pure beauty. It was undoubtedly female, a image of a face and a body came to Adrian then. He was drawn to the sound, attracted deeply to it. He felt bound by it, a great happiness filling him as he listened to the music.

Hair, white as snow, eyes a vibrant, deep blue. Her face was kind, young and serene, her gesturing pure. Her voice filled everything Adrian knew, his memories, his thoughts, even the demon inside it.

Mouse was silent, listening along with Adrian as the woman sang. It was only then that he realized he was gazing at the Old God herself, Urthemiel. This was a thing of purity and grace, the god of beauty, or whatever she was.

There were people standing behind her, listening intently to the song, eyes closed and heads raised as they took pleasure from the sound. Adrian knew, somehow, they were the other Old Gods killed in the Blights in the past.

An older, wizened man with a stitched mouth and simple garb. An old woman with frayed and chaotic hair, wearing clothes of all different shapes, sizes and color. Another man, dressed in all red and seeming as if he was on fire. The final onlooker was a younger man in black, his body bound by giant chains.

There were two more, standing away from those four, their eyes closed and ears not hearing the beauteous song. Adrian couldn't see the face of one, and the other was encased in shadow. The sleeping Old Gods, as of yet alive, slumbering within their prisons deep beneath the ground

The four dead Old Gods all stood, listening the song as Adrian was. This was their afterlife, Adrian knew, their one moment that came every couple hundred of years to once again be with their brothers and sisters that had been slain by the Wardens, as well as the ones still alive.

And then it was gone. The light disappeared for a second, the image of the woman faltering as Adrian felt himself be thrown back. Why was the song stopping? Why couldn't he move? Why did he want to go back, to hear the song again?

Fear overwhelmed the mage again, but Mouse was still silent. Adrian's consciousness slipped away, falling into blackness.

Disappearing, along with Urthemiel.

ooo

"They retreat! We have won!" It was Bann Teagan, Rayne recognized the voice from where she lay, still bound by Wynne's magic. The old woman was beside her, magic coursing from her fingertips, still mending the various wounds the elf girl had maintained. A true healer, Wynne didn't even look up as she heard the shouts, focusing her attention on Rayne completely.

From where Rayne lay she could see the top of Fort Drakon, and she saw the light when it had shot up into the sky, clearing the red-brown clouds from the air.

When the explosion shot out, Rayne felt a great pressing on her heart, as if something truly meaningful had somehow disappeared from the world. It was sad, and Rayne couldn't help but feel melancholy, despite the victory.

Why did it feel like she had lost something, something beautiful? Whatever it was, Rayne knew somehow she would never see it again, never touch it, never hold it to her chest.

Rayne cried as the soldiers cheered around her. Their celebrations meant nothing to her.

For she had lost everything.


	12. Epilogue: Changes to Come

**Epilogue: Changes to Come**

"Ser...? Ser. Ser!" Damnable maids. They never let him sleep in here, it seemed. Darius rolled over on to his back, shaking his head, struggling to ignore the persistent woman shaking his bed. Shaking his bed...? Oh, it was a while since he'd last had anything of that sort, bed shaking and all...

"Ser! I must insist you wake up! The Coronation is today! It starts quite soon! The Queen insists you're there on time!" Darius roared, shooting himself upright, startling the poor woman so bad she fell on her rear, body shaking.

"My apologies, madam, but I believe that repays your incessant nagging." The man shook his head as he struggled out of bed. "Never was a morning person... Didn't I say something about that to Anora when I arrived? 'Don't let them wake me before the twelfth bell.' I said. But no, the Queen didn't listen."

Darius looked the maid up and down as she stood, brushing herself off. She bowed when she was done, but did not respond to his questions. These Ferelden women were simple folk, but quite pleasing to look at, he had to admit. This maid in particular. Maybe Alistair had decided to give the new Warden-Commander of Ferelden a present by having a pretty maid look after him...? Wasn't Alistair the son of a maid? Well, unions between noblemen and peasants don't always yield poor results, then. If Darius felt lively enough, he might have even attempted to try one of those not-so-oft ill-fated flings with the pretty maidservant, but he was much too lethargic after the journey from Orlais.

"'It's a nice little country.' They said. 'You get used to the smell of wet dog after awhile.' Bah!" Darius muttered to himself as he started pulling on the fancy clothes the maid had brought for him. Noticing he was changing, the maid quickly excused herself, but not before opening his shutters and creating a little airflow in the stuffy palace room. "When I arrived here all I saw were dirty people, and the smell of darkspawn and wet dog doesn't seem to go away, even after being here a few days."

Darius quickly finished pulling up the final, snappy outfit Anora had provided for him. He had to admit she knew her fabrics. It was pleasant to touch in all the right places, if a bit tight.

"Reminds me of that one time in Antiva..." Darius snickered as he exited his room, finally somewhat motivated to sit through the official coronation of the King and Queen. "She knew how to use her tongue... But she wasn't that easy on the eyes."

Darius hummed loudly as he made his way through the elegant halls, sniffing at the constant smell of hound. Did they let their mabari run freely through the palace or something?

As if to answer his mental question, a mabari bounded down the hall just in front of him, barking and scampering, messing up the fine rug on the floor.

"That explains it." Darius sighed. Hopefully Amaranthine didn't reek so much.

"Sanskrit! Wait, damn you!" Coarse language for a female voice. Obviously, whoever it was that Darius heard, she wasn't some mere maid. Curious, he poked himself around the corner, looking for the source of the voice.

The elf ran into him full speed, her nose colliding with his shoulder. She rebounded quickly, fist approaching Darius' face. He caught it easily, but was put off by the second jab to his fruits, barely evading the strike and suffering a light blow to the inner thigh as punishment. Curious, but not injured, Darius wrapped the small female in a headlock while she was still reeling in surprise from his response. She struggled in vain, his grip secure.

"If I had a dollar for every time a strange female randomly assaulted me for running into her... well... I'd be pretty damn poor." The girl still fought, even going to far as to try and bite his arm. "Careful, my lady. I have no intention of harming you, I was simply surprised by your attack."

Eventually she stopped, panting, but he could tell she was far from giving up. She was strong willed, he'd give her that, though her punches were a bit messy. She was... unconventional, to say the least, aiming for his family jewels. It would serve her well in a scuffle in some seedy bar in a forgotten corner of Thedas.

But that wasn't where they were. They were in the Ferelden Royal Palace of all places! Why was some elf girl chasing a dog, loudly swearing and offending all the innocent sensibilities of visiting nobles?

Oh, right. Darius had to remember this wasn't Orlais. The nobles were closer to the poor in terms of "sensibilities" here. It was nice to have such a drastic change from his homeland, at least with that. Darius wasn't one to pander to the needs of mentally immature noblemen who acted as if they'd never heard of a penis when Darius brought them up on those rare occasions, often usually causing him great consternation in the Grand Court of Orlais afterward. Ferelden nobles would gladly talk about theirs, eagerly offering measurements and everything.

"Are you going to let me go or what, shem?" How offensive! In Orlais she'd be hung for such impertinence, but Darius was only amused. He liked the girl already. Darius complied, rubbing his wrists from the bite marks the elf had covered them with.

"Might I ask who you are, lady?" The elf stiffened, looking behind her once before realizing Darius was talking to her. She was quite pretty, he thought, thought her emerald eyes were quite fierce, boring holes in Darius' skull, shoulder length black hair flapping in the very slight breeze. She had a great body, too. Her ferocity was quite unusual, however.

"I'd want to ask you the same thing. Why would a shem call me a lady?"

"Is not every woman who throws a punch at my manhood not a lady?"

"You...refer to me as a woman, not as an elf. I am simply surprised." The elf looked away, further down the hall to where the mabari had likely disappeared off to. "My name is Rayne."

"A very pretty name, if I may say so myself." Darius smiled at her. She was an interesting girl, but that still didn't explain why she was running after a dog in a palace. Why did her name sound familiar? "Pray tell me what you were doing, earlier?"

"That was Sanskrit, a mabari I know quite well. I was trying to get a nice collar on him, since none of the handlers had the balls to do so themselves." She spoke roughly and completely unafraid. It was a nice to be talked to that way by an elf, of all things. Darius liked fiery women, but he was lacking time to be chatting with her, interesting as she was. The coronation would start soon, if the insolent maid who had awoken him was not spitting lies.

"Intriguing, however I must be off. Excuse me." Darius strode past her, patting her shoulder as he passed. A friendly enough gesture, if not only to make sure she didn't fire another punch at his 'nads next time he met her.

"Wait!" Darius turned. What was she going to say? Was she about to cast off her clothes and throw herself at him, eagerly lusting after him, hot and bothered from their small scuffle? He'd gladly arrive at the coronation late for that.

"Who are you?" Damn it.

"Darius Caron, Grey Warden from the country of Orlais." Darius bowed after introducing himself, sweeping his hand in front of himself in a grand gesture of introduction. "A request was sent from the First Warden himself to install me here as the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. It was an unusual move, but necessary due to the severe lack of Grey Wardens here. I hear your King is one, but I doubt he has the time to attend to our business."

"I wanted a name, not a biography."

"My apologies, lady." The girl huffed and turned, chasing the Mabari once again.

Darius had to add this one to his list of interesting encounters. Too bad he didn't manage to bed her.

"Oh well. There's always next time."

ooo

"The Maker recognizes King Alistair Theirin and Queen Anora Mac Tir as rulers of Ferelden. May their reign together be long and plentiful in blessings." The Revered Mother spoke briefly, her hand shaking with both excitement for her duty and the nervousness of being in company with such powerful people.

Darius laughed quietly to himself as he noticed Anora gave Alistair little attention. So their match was political after all, like the Empress had suspected. Interesting, if not predictable. Nobles rarely have much choice when it comes to love, and Darius had heard much in the way of tales of Anora and the late King Cailan's attraction to each other.

The Warden leaned against a doorway, near the front of the crowd of people gathered for the coronation. Darius examined the area, taking note of the various people on the stage area. There was Alistair and Anora in the center, King and Queen of Ferelden, whom Darius met when he first arrived in Denerim. Loghain, who was staring at Darius, was also familiar to him.

Darius simply smiled back. Apparently the former Teyrn had been given the job of recruiting people in the Grey Wardens. Not an easy job, as Darius knew all too well. His late contemporaries and friends, Duncan and Riordan, had talked to Darius at length about the hazards involved in the job.

The only other person standing up there, aside from the Revered Mother, was a worn-out looking young man. He was handsome, if not quite beat up, and was dressed in robes befitting a mage of the Circle. He carried no staff, however, and kept glancing back into the crowd of people gathered. Darius thought there was something strange about the man, but he chalked it up to imagination.

"Ladies and Gentlemen assembled, I would like to give special honor to this man," Queen Anora gestured to the haggardly mage, who barely acknowledged her. If he showed as much disrespect in the Grand Court, he'd be killed! But this was Ferelden, Darius reminded himself yet again. They did things differently in this dog-loving country. "Adrian Amell, the Hero of Ferelden."

The room erupted in wild applause, shouts and cheers erupting from every corner of the hall. Darius was startled, he had to admit, clapping along with the crowd. These people loved Adrian, unequivocally. In Orlais, there was hardly this much admiration going around, only disdain towards your betters.

"His efforts, aided only by a select few companions, single-handedly saved Ferelden from being swallowed up by the Blight! As thanks for his efforts, I would like to ask you if you wish to have a boon for your services, as a reward."

The mage looked at Anora, his oddly red eyes staring at the Queen. But it was odd, the Queen was fidgeting when Adrian was looking at her. Was she... nervous? He took awhile to speak, the room silent in anticipation.

"For the sake of the mages, I would like to ask that the Circle is freed of the oppressive influence of the Chantry and Templars. I want the Mages of Ferelden to practice our magic without aggressive and unfair interference by those who seek to consider themselves our betters." The room erupted in gasps, the Revered Mother took a step forward.

"The Chantry cannot allow mages to simply run amok!" The Revered Mother seemed like she wanted to lunge at Adrian. How quickly people turn on others! Now this was familiar! As soon as someone did something another didn't like, it was back to square one, no matter how much you've done for them. "Your kind is dangerous, and must be kept under watch!"

"Harsh words, considering how I saved your life, Revered Mother." Adrian shot back. "Would you still call a mage dangerous, despite how one just rescued your entire country from the brink of annihilation?" Darius couldn't help but be intrigued by the Hero of Ferelden. He was a man with feelings and ideals, after all, not simply a symbol of victory like it seemed when Darius walked the streets of Denerim, every man, woman and child celebrating in Adrian's name.

"Enough." Anora snapped at the Revered Mother. "I will allow it. From now on and forever, the mages of the Circle shall no longer be lorded over by the Chantry and by the Templars. They are their own to govern, and I trust they will be in good hands." She paused, letting the decision sink in. "I also name Adrian Amell Chancellor to the crown, as well as chief representative of the Circle of Magi." Both powerful positions. Darius smirked. This mage was being given a lot of titles.

Anora turned away then, addressing the crowd. "And the lands of Amaranthine, formerly under the lordship of Arl Rendon Howe, shall be granted to the Grey Wardens as additional thanks for their efforts. There they shall rebuild, welcome in the shelter of Ferelden, ever-vigilant in their quest to defeat the darkspawn." She paused again, gesturing towards Darius. Taking his cue, the man stepped forward, onto the stage. "This man, Darius Caron, will take up the mantle of Warden-Commander of Ferelden in the effort to rebuild their order." Darius bowed to the crowd before moving back to his former, less formal position of leaning on a doorway.

"Remember, people of Ferelden. We have triumphed over the darkest of threats to our lands! Take pride in this moment, and forever be grateful to those who sacrificed themselves in pursuit of this goal!" Another round of thunderous applause. Anora knew how to play the game. She was good.

And then the speech giving was over. Now was the time for mingling with nobles, congratulations and ass-kissing with the new Chancellor and whatnot.

Of course, Darius was first surprised by a familiar bolt in front of him. The elf girl from earlier, Rayne, rushed out from the doorway. The Warden-Commander considered asking her where the dog was, as he was not with her, but she passed by too quickly.

Darius watched as Rayne headed straight to Adrian, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him deeply, gasps, cheers and applause erupting from the crowd, some clapped while others simply gawked. Yes, the Hero of Ferelden was affiliated with a beautiful elf.

The Warden-Commander laughed heartily while he clapped. Lots of titles and a beautiful girl to go with it. It seemed like Adrian Amell's story would end very happily indeed.

He whistled as he exited the grand hall. He had no intention of mingling with nobles whose main interest was a different man.

It wasn't Darius' day, and he'd leave Adrian to his celebrations.

By the Maker, he probably earned it.

ooo

Mouse broke from the kiss with Rayne, a smile widening on his face.

It was too easy, masquerading as Adrian in this city. Nobody could tell, not even the one who had so passionately admitted to him that she loved him.

Excuse me, loved Adrian.

Mouse grabbed Rayne by the waist, pulling her close while he gazed out over the assembled people. Finally he was free, and he would toy with this world as his desires permitted.

Pride had triumphed over all.


End file.
